Page 30 of Five Years
“Nope, but please come here. It looks like his legs are separate from his torso.”
Ariana knew without asking that the twins—aka her delightful, YouTube-obsessed, slightly psychotic nephews—were responsible. The first year they discovered TikTok, Ariana ended up in hospital with a broken rib because they convinced her she could do an amateur dance challenge. There was nothing amateur about it, apart from her ability to do it successfully, of course.
“I should go and make sure he doesn’t kill himself,” Ariana sighed.
“Wait—” Leah reached out, her breath caught in her throat. Ariana stopped in her tracks, turning toward Leah with a curious expression. The silence lingered.
Can we finish the conversation?
Is there something you wanted to say?
Do you still love—no, that thought was inappropriate and strictly forbidden.
Ariana waited; she gently squeezed Leah’s hand, a silent encouragement.
With a trembling voice, she said, “It doesn’t matter.”
“Are you sure?”
Leah nodded.
Ariana looked up at the veranda. The space between the glass door and the railings was now shadowless. She turned back, her gaze lingering on Leah’s face. Without a word, she reached out to gently adjust the beanie hat on Leah’s head. Her touch was careful; the gesture felt intimate beneath the lightly illuminated porch lights. Ariana’s fingers brushed against Leah’s cheek. The simple act of adjusting Leah’s hat felt so much more than that. The rush of heat, the tension, the subtle electricity that sent shivers down Leah’s spine. Ariana’s fingers lingered against Leah’s skin, not wanting to let go.
“If you don’t turn the hem up to this point, it’ll itch your head,” Ariana explained, her eyes unwavering.
“Wait, is this your hat?” Leah said, a puzzled expression on her face.
She nodded with a smug look on her face. “Grace borrowed it a while back.”
“Oh god, I’m sorry, do you want it back?” Leah attempted to remove the hat, but Ariana caught her arms before she could reach.
“It looks better on you than it ever did me.” Ariana smiled. “Keep it.”
“I can’t do that,” Leah argued.
“Think of it as a memento from the trip.”
“I ca—”
Ariana started walking away before Leah could finish. It looked as though she was keeping the hat, which secretly she was grateful for because she’d forgotten hers. It was still on the top of her chest of drawers along with the gloves she made herself promise not to forget.
“Are you coming?”
Leah nodded and followed the crunching sound of Ariana’s boots as they made their way up the gravel path. She was still reeling from the intimacy of the gesture. A simple adjustment of her hat, but one that left a lingering promise.
SEVEN
Leah cleared a space by the window in her bedroom. She had a balcony with double doors and the most incredible view of the lake beyond. It was the perfect morning yoga spot—a tranquil space where she could set the scene. She laid two mats flat on the ground; the accommodation provided mats as well as sporting equipment in the converted garage gym.
The room filled with the scent of lavender and eucalyptus from the burning candle she’d purchased at the home décor shop a few days earlier. She turned off the lights, opting to rely solely on the natural light filtering through the windows. She hit play on her yoga playlist, and the room became filled with the gentle sound of a flute.
The door to her bedroom opened, and Ariana walked in. A few too many glasses of wine the night before, yet she’d agreed to a 7 a.m. yoga induction.
“You look surprised to see me,” Ariana said, rubbing her eyes with the back of her hand.
“Nope, not at all. I had every faith you’d join me,” Leah lied.
“Hmm, okay.”
