Leah Comes Back
Caden
Leah arrived at seven with two bottles of wine, enough food for approximately eleven people, and the energy of someone who had been restraining herself for a week and had decided restraint was officially over.
She walked past me at the door with the ease of someone who had long since stopped treating this house as somewhere she needed permission to be, set everything on the kitchen counter, turned around, looked at me directly for the first time since she’d left, and said — “You told her you loved her.”
Not a question.
“Yes,” I said.
“First time you’ve said that to anyone,” she said. Also not a question.
“Aria told you,” I said.
“Aria tells me everything,” Leah said. “That’s what I’m for.” She looked at me with an expression that was doing several things simul
