“Hey,” Riley answered the phone. His voice was accompanied by the thud of a car door in the background. “What’s up?”
“Just calling to check on you.” I could hear the faint scuffle of footsteps on pavement. Then another thud. Strange. “Mom brought some food over tonight.”
“Oh,” his voice dipped. “I wish I’d known, I just finished eating.”
My lips pressed together. “Well, it’ll be in the fridge when you want it.” I ended the call, not waiting for a response.
For the last ten years Riley and I had lived together. When the house next to our parents went up for sale, we’d all pooled some money together and bought it so that he and I could stay close to them. It was convenient timing for me too. I had just moved back from Oklahoma, and gotten the job at Stella Cucina. Buying the house mean
