Page 63 of Five Years
“Don’t you dare say that’s why we didn’t work!” Leah cut her off.
“I wasn’t going to—”
“How dare you! What gives you the right to question me after all these years? I don’t owe you anything. You owe me!”
“How do I owe you, Leah?”
“Did you forget what you did?”
Ariana sighed. “I did things in the most respectful way I could, given the circumstances.”
“Pftt, okay.” Leah turned toward the water.
“How would you have done it differently? I’d love to know.”
Leah snapped her head back. “I wouldn’t have left!” she yelled.
Ariana glanced at the glass doors. They were firmly shut. She put her finger to her lips in a panic.
“Are you shushing me?” Leah’s eyes widened.
“Can we dial it down a notch, please?” Ariana begged.
The wind howled softly. Leah shivered beneath the wool blanket. Silence stretched, heavy with their history.
“Would you understand if I said leaving you will always be my biggest regret?” Ariana said nervously.
“How can you say that?” Leah took a deep breath. “You can’t say things like that. It isn’t fair.”
“To who? Hannah? Because she knows it is—regardless of where it led me.”
Leah looked away. “I don’t know how you want me to take that.” Her voice trembled.
“I just want you to know it was never easy for me. I thought I was doing the right thing—me being with Hannah, and you...”
“Being heartbroken?” Leah scoffed.
“No—you moving on. Finding someone who could give you the love you deserved.”
“As you can see, that’s worked out really well for me.” Leah frowned.
Ariana stepped closer. “I thought I was doing the right thing,” she whispered.
Leah’s heart began to race.
“I don’t understand—”
“It was never about you, Leah. It wasn’t anything you did, or something you couldn’t give me. I needed to understand what Hannah still meant to me, and I couldn’t do that and keep you. I made peace with that decision, but ultimately it was the hardest decision of my life, and I need you to know that.” Her voice broke.
“What about me?” Leah thought of all the sleepless nights, the solo coffee shop dates, the evenings crying over social media posts—all leading to this moment. Pride had kept her silent, masked the hurt, the questions, the confusion. Now it all came crashing down.
“What about what I wanted?” she asked softly.
“What was I supposed to do? Tell you I wasn’t sure of my feelings for Hannah and then have you wait while I figured it out?”
The air thickened. Silence pressed in, broken only by a distant chorus of chirps and squeals from the woods.
“I wouldn’t have waited—” Leah snapped. But they both knew she would have.
