Page 49 of Five Years
“I know. I came back last year and couldn’t believe it. But—there’s a saving grace.”
She spun on her heel and gestured toward a small red-fronted restaurant wedged between two derelict buildings. The sign readPizza? We’ve got you covered.ThePon the neon sign was dead, and the menu in the window was so sun-faded it was barely legible.
“Is that the pizzeria?” Leah’s eyes lit up like Christmas morning.
“It sure is.”
The smell of garlic, tomato, and bubbling mozzarella spilled from the doorway, making Leah’s mouth water.
“But . . .how?”
“How did it survive?” Ariana asked.
“Yeah—nothing else did.”
“I asked the owner last time I was here. He said he became the neighbourhood’s lifeline. Families were struggling, so he gave away free pizza. Spent his life savings feeding people. Thought he’d lose everything—but when things opened up again, the community showed up for him. Fiercely loyal. Kept him alive. Now he’s thriving.”
Leah blinked back tears. “That’s beautiful.”
“I know. Just shows what people can do for each other.”
“And pizza,” Leah grinned.
Ariana laughed. “And pizza. Shall we?”
Leah practically skipped to the entrance. Inside, the warmth wrapped around her like an old blanket. They slid into a booth by the window.
When the server set down a steaming deep-dish slice, Leah’s eyes went wide at the stretch of molten cheese as she lifted it from the pan.
They dug in, laughing over their age-old debates about thin crust versus deep dish. For a moment, it felt easy again—like notime had passed. Like they were just two people who discovered quirky little places and fell in love with them together.
“Do you think it’s weird that half our relationship revolved around pizza?” Leah asked.
“I think it’s perfect,” Ariana said. “What else competes with pizza? We were never going to bond over broccoli.”
Leah laughed. “Fair point.”
She watched Ariana’s face—the way her eyes lit with each bite, the small, almost shy smile curling her lips. Ariana cradled the slice in both hands, tilting it as though it deserved study. Her brows pinched in concentration. Leah found something heartbreakingly endearing in it, this quiet reverence for simple joy.
Every so often Ariana let out a soft sigh of satisfaction, and it undid Leah a little more each time. The dimples when she smiled. The thoughtful way she chewed, savouring without pretence.
I miss you.
Leah bit her tongue against the words. They would undo her.
A smear of sauce clung to the corner of Ariana’s mouth. Leah stifled a laugh, grabbed a napkin, and leaned across the table. “Here,” she said softly, a teasing smile in place. Her pulse thrummed as she reached closer. “You’ve got something...”
Ariana froze, eyes flicking up to meet Leah’s. Surprise—then something else. Something that made Leah’s stomach dip. Longing? Or was she imagining it?
“Thanks.” Ariana’s voice was a little breathless. Her cheeks pinked. “Guess I’m enjoying this slice too much.”
Leah smiled, eyes lingering. “I think it’s cute.”
Ariana laughed lightly, turning back to her plate. Leah leaned back, letting the moment settle over her like warm syrup. She watched Ariana eat and thought—This could be the last time.
The last time they’d share something this ordinary. This easy. Just them, two halves of an old whole, pretending for an afternoon that nothing had broken between them.
She couldn’t pretend they’d end up best friends. That wasn’t possible. Her fear of seeing Ariana had dulled after the Harrison family trip, and that was something to celebrate. But friends? No. There would always be a part of her that wanted more. Always.
