Page 46 of Five Years
Fine.
Grace
Good girl. And don’t come back before six.
There’s a cake delay.
It was only 1:06 p.m.
“Where’s your sweater from?” Leah asked.
“Free People,” Ariana replied.
“It suits you.”
“Thanks. I like your...sweater too.” Her reply was awkward.
“Thanks.”
Leah found a bench facing the water and sat, watching boats glide by. Ariana lingered at the railing, looking out, her posture thoughtful—probably planning her escape route.
The Riverwalk was alive with winter energy: bundled-up couples, tourists with cameras, the hum of chatter carried on crisp air. Somehow, it was still peaceful. Leah welcomed that.
She focused on the rhythm of the water lapping against stone. Ariana turned, leaning back on the rail, eyes sparkling with mischief.
What?Leah mouthed.
Ariana beckoned her over.
“Do you remember our third date?” Ariana asked.
“How could I forget the boat tour from hell?” Leah groaned.
A smile crept across Ariana’s face. “Do you remember what you said to me after we got off the boat?”
Leah laughed. “I said I’d never step foot on another tour boat unless...”
“Unless you had a bag of popcorn.” Ariana smirked. “And two pairs of gloves.”
“You planned this?” Leah raised a brow, suspicious.
“Not at all.”
“I don’t see two pairs of gloves.”
Ariana reached into her coat pockets, pulling out a black pair from the left and a grey pair from the right.
“That makes two,” she said, grinning.
“Do we have to?” Leah’s stomach tightened.
“No,” Ariana teased, “but I think it could be healing for you.”
The memory surfaced, sharp and unwanted. Six years ago, the boat trip had been a nightmare: screaming kids, a mother-daughter duo arguing loud enough to drown out the tour guide, wind whipping her hair into a tangled mess because she’d forgotten her beanie.
And lunch—God, lunch.
She’d been starving, clinging to the sandwich she’d packed, until one wrong step sent it skidding over the slick deck and into the river, where a swarm of birds had a feast.
