Page 19 of Five Years
“I know you’re lying,” Leah said with a nervous laugh.
“A week ago, maybe. But seeing you the other day made me realize how much I missed you—like, as a friend, y’know? I’m not trying to say Imiss you, miss you...shit...I hope this isn’t coming across wrong,” Ariana said, adjusting the bottom of her beanie.
“You don’t need to worry. I’m not about to go and write in my diary that youmiss me, miss me,” Leah replied.
There was a blush on Ariana’s cheeks. It could’ve passed as weather-related, but Leah knew better.
“Still keeping a diary?” Ariana asked.
Miss you, miss you.
It was a phrase they used to sign off cards, texts, the occasional phone call. Ariana had once said that onemiss youwasn’t enough to express how deeply she longed for Leah. She couldn’t bring herself to write it anymore.
“Barely. Once it stopped being so depressing, I realised I didn’t have much to write about,” Leah laughed.
The diary had become an evening ritual in the months after their breakup—a cheaper form of therapy without the extortionate fees and silent judgment. Therapists said they didn’t judge, but they did. It was human nature.
“Yeah, erm,” Ariana rubbed her neck. “I’m sorry about that.”
“About breaking up with me?” Leah waved her off. “It’s water under the bridge. Almost like it never happened.”
A lie. But she was convincing in her delivery.
Who was she kidding?
She had clearly chosen the nonchalant approach to spending a week with the ex-love of her life.
Ariana eyed her, suspicious. “Okay.”
“I really should get my things inside—it’s cold out here,” Leah shivered.
“Do you need help?” Ariana asked politely.
“Nope, I’m all good.” Leah smiled, slung her backpack over one shoulder, and made a beeline for the front porch. She didn’t look back—not even to acknowledge Grace, who was busy lifting a stirring Ezra from his car seat.
“Third door down the hall on the left, kiddo,” Steven called out as Leah rushed through the door, narrowly avoiding a pile of luggage.
“Thank you,” she replied.
She didn’t stop to exchange pleasantries with Kathy or Johnathan’s wife, who looked at her like she’d just been transported back in time. A quick nod would suffice. She slid to a stop at the fourth doorway down—the third was a toilet.
The lakeview bedroom was beautifully decorated in blue and grey tones. Two large sliding doors exposed a double vanity bathroom. A textured blue weave chair sat in the corner, and a small glass fireplace was built into a media wall beneath a giant flat screen TV.
It was beautiful.
Leah observed it all from the floor, slumped against the back of the door. Her hands trembled, her breathing sharp as she tried to slow her racing heart.
What the hell was I thinking?
She pressed her head against the door, the weight of the situation finally sinking in. Seeing Ariana a few days prior had been an accident. A genuine run-in. But this—vacationing with her sister and her family, fully knowing Ariana would be there—this was a staged run-in. She’d put herself here.
Did that make her seem unhinged?
Who exactly wanted to run into their ex—let alone spend a week with them in intimate surroundings?
She hadn’t thought this through until it was too late.
Leah recalled the five rules of engagement outlined in a self-help book she’d borrowed from her local café—she had to conjure up a game plan.
