Page 47 of Five Years
If Ariana hadn’t soothed her pounding headache with gentle forehead kisses, Leah might have thrown herself overboard just to escape.
Back then, she’d called it theboat trip from hell.
The only good part? The big bag of Garrett’s popcorn they’d bought afterward.
“Fine.” Leah sighed.
The boat trip, by Leah’s standards, was far more successful than the last. She stepped off warm and alert, remnants of popcorn tangled in the curls that framed her shoulders. It could’ve been worse.
Six days ago, her mother had asked what she wanted for Christmas. Leah had joked,“My old life back.”She didn’t actually think it would come true.
She missed so much about Michigan, and she couldn’t pretend Ariana wasn’t a big part of that. Whenever Leah thought about the past, there was no version that didn’t include her. Her life had split into two distinct eras:before Arianaandafter Ariana.
It was sad, really. Depressing, if she was honest. No one had ever said that to her face, but she knew they thought it. Friends and family still tiptoed around anything to do with romance. Mostly because she’d taught them to. There had been thecry-at-everythingphase—hysterical sobbing that got her uninvited from gatherings. Then came thenew lease of lifephase, complete with an icy exterior that shut down any mention of her love life or moving on. Truth be told, people didn’t know which version of her they’d get next—and they were afraid to find out.
Ariana really was beautiful, Leah thought.
She watched as Ariana reapplied the same brand of lip balm she’d been loyal to since high school. Some things never changed. Ariana tugged her sweater collar higher, letting the wool bunch against her neck like a makeshift scarf. Her fingers, though, were ghostly white.
“Your fingers!” Leah blurted.
Ariana held them out, wincing as she tried to bend at the knuckles.
“Here.” Leah dug out the second pair of gloves from her pocket. “God, I’m sorry. So selfish of me.”
“It is, actually.” Ariana smirked. “They might fall off, and I’ll be fingerless. All your fault.”
“Don’t!” Leah frowned. “You know I’ll feel guilty for a decade.”
Ariana chuckled, her cheeks flushed pink from the cold. “I just underestimated how bitter it’d be by the water. It’s not your fault.”
Leah held out the gloves. Ariana hesitated for a heartbeat, then reached for them. Her fingers brushed Leah’s—just a whisper of contact—but it was enough.
They held eye contact a moment too long. Leah felt it like a building collapsing inside her: the thud in her chest, the crash in her stomach, her body short-circuiting at being this closeto Ariana again. The Riverwalk faded to a soft blur—people, sounds, everything dimmed—until it was just them.
A nearby busker’s speaker played Taylor Swift’sTimeless.
Of course it did.
Ariana mouthed the chorus, and Leah’s heart ached. All she wanted in that moment was to hold her. Nothing more, nothing less. Just...hold her. Or be held by her. Either one.
There, in the crisp Chicago air, she wanted Taylor’s lyrics to belong to them. She wantedthis—the concrete walkway stretching endlessly ahead, Ariana standing inches away—to be their second chance. Every fibre of her being craved that rewrite.
But—
They’d already had their love story.
The version of them that existed in this universe had come and gone. Intoxicating. Magnetic. Fleeting. Every epic love story rolled into one—and yet, how do you explain that? How do you put into words that if something was that extraordinary, it shouldn’t have ended?
“Thank you,” Ariana murmured as she slipped her hands into the gloves.
Leah’s chest fluttered. “You’re welcome, Ari.” Her tone soft, sincere.
The moment lingered like the last note of a song. Ariana wiggled her fingers. “I think I can feel warmth again.”
Leah smiled gently. “Maybe we should grab a hot drink? Warm you up more?” Her words were empty—her brain wasn’t in them. Her focus was fixed on Ariana’s lips.
The eye contact. The proximity. That invisible thread between them—still there, no matter how much time had passed. Leah might never admit it aloud, but she was certain Ariana felt it too.
