Chapter 4 #2
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.
1. Don’t initiate the contact.
Avoid her. Easier said than done.
2. Remain at a distance.
She could do that. The lake house was big enough to get lost in. There was no requirement to attend all family activities. She could lock herself away in her stunning lakeview bedroom and commence a week-long binge of a series she’d normally never indulge in.
3. Match their energy.
Don’t be a miserable witch if Ariana decided to be overly friendly—she could manage that. What if Ariana started flirting? Was she supposed to flirt back?
Change of plan—somewhat match her energy. (Unless she’s flirty.)
4. Small talk is key.
Leah had a tendency to overcomplicate things. Small talk with colleagues or strangers she could manage. But with Ariana? That required her brain to relinquish enough power over her emotions to avoid embarrassing herself.
This trip was absolutely not the time to be sharing feelings. The only acceptable topics were to be simple and non-confrontational. She decided any conversation outside of the following list was strictly prohibited:
Weather. Politics. Sports. Vacation. Career.
5. Leave the conversation.
Walk away. Don’t linger. Keep interactions short and simple, then excuse yourself.
Simple instructions.
She could absolutely stick to that.
She had one week to either solidify a friendship with Ariana or part ways amicably and avoid all future contact. There was no third option.
If she could survive accidentally sending a message meant for her friend into a group chat with her entire family—containing highly inappropriate content—then she could survive a week with Ariana.
“Leah,” a muffled voice came through the door, followed by a brief knock.
It was Ariana.
She froze.
Stay calm.
“Leah, are you in there?”
A sharper knock vibrated through Leah’s body.
“Yes,” she responded, coyly.
“Erm, can I come in?” Ariana asked.
Leah jumped up from her seated position. “Why?”
“Because this is my room?”
“No, this is my room.” Leah opened the door. “Your dad told me third door down.”
“Third door down on the left,” Ariana smirked. “This is the fourth door down on the right. You’re across the hall.”
“Oh.”
“I would trade, but I already unpacked my things in the closet,” Ariana pointed out.
“Sorry, it was a genuine mistake.”
“It’s okay,” Ariana said gently.
First, she’d arrived unexpectedly on vacation. Then she’d locked herself in Ariana’s bedroom.
What next?
Leah toddled across the hall—a walk of shame she hadn’t foreseen.
“Leah, wait . . .” Ariana called after her.
“Yeah?” Leah turned to face her.
“Do you want to grab some lunch?” she asked casually.
“Erm . . .I don’t know if that’s a good idea, is it?” Leah challenged.
Despite the moral obligation to decline the invitation, her pulse quickened with excitement.
“Why not?” Ariana questioned.
Is she for real?
“Well, given our history,” she hesitated. “I’m not sure a solo lunch would be the smartest thing to do—not for any reason, I just don’t want to cause any trouble.”
Leah secretly hoped Ariana would persuade her otherwise. That hope would go down in her daily affirmation journal as a toxic trait under the category: What would you have done differently today?
She hated that question.
Yesterday, she’d spent the whole day cleaning her apartment, eating pretzels, and binging trash TV. Her response to the prompt had been:
I would have eaten fewer pretzels and therefore avoided the yeast bloat that followed.
The statement was as true as any she’d written, but she was pretty sure it wasn’t what the journal intended.
“Oh.”
Ariana’s expression faltered—a flicker of hesitation Leah clocked immediately.
“I meant all of us,” Ariana said, raising her eyebrow in that familiar way Leah remembered. She used to make the exact same expression whenever she took pity on someone.
“Ah. Yeah. Of course. I knew that,” Leah scoffed.
She absolutely did not know that.
And worse, now Ariana knew she didn’t know that—because in the fucked-up parallel universe Leah found herself in, Ariana knew her.
Leah was dying inside. Her heart sank. She had completely misunderstood Ariana’s invitation, and now this hallway interaction was the final nail in her coffin of embarrassment.
“Maybe . . .I have a lot of work to do, though, so I’ll text Grace.”
With a forced smile, she excused herself.
The sting of rejection lingered.