The diner was nearly empty by the time Julia slid into the booth across from him. The rain outside had softened to a dull whisper, pooling along the windows like melted glass. Brandon stared at the cup between his hands, dark liquid rippling each time his thumb tapped the ceramic.
“You shouldn’t be here,” he said, not looking up.
Julia tilted her head. “You said that last time. It didn’t stop me then either.”
He sighed, a low, tired sound. “You’re not my babysitter.”
“I didn’t come to babysit.” She reached into the paper bag she’d brought and set a plastic container on the table. “You haven’t eaten properly in days. Don’t argue.”
He gave her a look sharp enough to cut glass. “I don’t need charity.”
“Good,” she said, unfazed. “Because it’s leftovers. I’m not generous enough to waste n
