Chapter 10
TEN
“You love Chicago, right?” Grace asked.
“Uh-huh.” Leah played with Ezra’s toes, trying to distract him from crying.
“What do you love about it?”
The question felt off-topic. Minutes earlier, they’d been talking about Ezra’s sleep pattern and Grace’s ban on sex because, as she put it, her vagina was still having flashbacks from pushing out a ten-pound baby.
“Erm, I don’t know—the food?”
“What kind of food?” Grace probed.
“Erm, jibaritos.”
She loved jibaritos. To most people, it looked like any other sandwich, but the Puerto Rican recipe used flattened fried plantains instead of bread—game-changing.
“It’s probably been a while since you had one, huh?” Grace mumbled, bent over, rummaging through the largest of the three holdalls she’d travelled with.
“Do you need some help?” Leah asked, using her fingers to form a poorly shaped hissing snake—her dad had taught her all the shadow puppets as a kid. It was finally being put to good use.
Ezra laughed.
“Nope. I need . . .aha, found it!”
Grace rose triumphantly, holding a small stuffed duck. Its orange beak was matted from baby saliva.
“Is that Ducky?” Leah beamed.
“Of course. It’s his favourite.”
It wasn’t the most adventurous nickname, but Ezra seemed to love it. He clutched the duck and immediately shoved the beak in his mouth.
“Speaking of ducks, do you remember the time we went to Chicago for your birthday and you won that giant Daffy Duck stuffed animal from the arcade?”
Leah eyed her suspiciously. Grace usually refused to talk about that trip—it was the weekend she found out her boyfriend had been cheating. It had dampened the whole experience.
“Okay, what’s going on?”
“What do you mean?”
“Are we going to Chicago?” Leah cut straight to the point.
“We’re not,” Grace said, covering her eyes.
“You’ve lost me.” Leah’s tone sharpened.
“I was sort of hoping you’d be okay to accompany Ariana to Chicago?”
Leah nearly spat her apple juice all over Ezra.
“You’ve got to be joking.”
“The thing is, I was going to go, but Ezra’s sick, and . . .well, you know it’s her birthday next week, right?”
As if Leah could ever forget.
“Yes, I know it’s her birthday.”
“Well, she’s back in New York, and we won’t see her, so last night I was thinking—what if we plan a surprise party for her here, tonight? But I need time to set everything up, get a cake—basically, I need her out of the house.”
“So that’s where I come in?”
“Exactly!”
“I don’t know about this, Grace. We can handle short interactions, sure—but a full day? Alone? What if it gets awkward?” Leah whispered, turning away from Ezra, whose eyes were slowly closing.
“You’ll be fine. I saw you two chatting earlier, and on the beach the other day—and do I need to mention the weird yoga?”
“The yoga wasn’t weird until you made it weird.”
“Sure, okay.”
Grace didn’t believe her. Truthfully, Leah was grateful for her interference—it had curbed the arousal.
“I can’t believe you dragged me in here, gave me a glass of apple juice—which you know is my favourite—told me sob stories about this beautiful child, got me all nostalgic with duck stories . . .and it was all one big ploy!”
“I’m sorry,” Grace laughed.
“You can’t be trusted anymore. Gone are the days of genuine friendship,” Leah scowled. “I’m deeply disappointed.”
“Can you be deeply disappointed in the car in, like, fifteen minutes?” Grace grinned.
“Fifteen fu—” Leah caught herself, glancing at Ezra. “Fifteen minutes?”
“Pleaseeee,” Grace pleaded.
“Why can’t Steve go?” Leah already knew the answer.
“Dad means Kathy. And Ariana would rather poke her eyes out with a pencil than spend a day with Kathy.”
“Maybe Kathy’s just misunderstood. Maybe a day in Chicago could really mend their relationship. They could come back the best of friends.”
“You don’t sound the slightest bit convincing.”
“I know!”
There was no hope for Ariana and Kathy. Just then, Ariana burst through Grace’s bedroom door, wearing a red boucle zip-neck sweater under a giant black puffer coat. Her hair tumbled out from beneath her beanie.
“Are you ready to go, Gracey?”
“Slight change of plan—Leah’s going to go with you.”
She didn’t even know!!
Leah was going to kill Grace. Actually kill her.
“So—” It was Ariana’s fifth so in the first thirty minutes of their drive.
“Look, I know this is weird, and it’s probably going to get awkward. I’d apologise in advance, but honestly? Grace should be the one apologising for putting us in this position,” Leah blurted out.
“I don’t think it’s weird,” Ariana said.
“You don’t?”
“No. We used to do stuff like this all the time. We had the most fun on road trips.”
“We were also in a relationship, Ari.”
“So?” She said it completely blasé.
“We used to have sex on our road trips.”
Ariana nearly spat her coffee all over the steering wheel. “Erm, yes, we did—”
Now, she didn’t know where to look.
“We still had fun regardless of the sex though, right?”
“No. Aside from that, I actually couldn’t stand you,” Leah teased.
“Oh.” Ariana stared straight ahead.
“I made it weird, didn’t I?” Leah asked.
“Kinda.” Ariana let out a short, sharp laugh.
The car hummed along. Ariana gripped the steering wheel a little too tightly, her knuckles turning white against the leather.
“Why do you want to go to Chicago anyway?” Leah asked.
“For a hot dog,” Ariana said.
“You want to drive ninety minutes for a hot dog?” Leah turned in her seat. The winter sun poured through the windshield, catching Ariana’s profile as she squinted in the cutest way possible.
“Yep.”
“Why?”
“Because they’re the best hot dogs!”
“Okay, but surely there’s another reason you want to go?”
“Nope.” She shook her head convincingly.
“Okay, that’s good to know.”
Leah stared out the window, watching the trees blur by.
They used to take countless drives like this.
It was their thing—back when life made sense, back when she could reach across the centre console and hold Ariana’s hand, tapping along to the beat of whatever song was big at the time.
Every anthem used to feel like the soundtrack to their love.
Now the radio played something neither of them knew, and all it did was echo the distance that had formed since their breakup.
She missed Ariana. Sitting beside her now only amplified how much. Not romantically—she used to, for a very long time. She used to crave her touch, her lips, the way Ariana would wrap her legs around her naked body beneath a thick winter duvet.
Now, she just missed her. The person she was.
The way she laughed at Leah’s bad jokes and made her feel funny, even though she absolutely wasn’t.
She missed Ariana researching every detail of their trips, walking her through the plan like a tour guide.
She missed the way Ariana listened—really listened—like every thought Leah had mattered.
She’d wanted to be exactly what Leah needed. And she had been.
Ariana finally broke the silence, her voice slightly shaky. “Uh . . .do you want to go to Garrett’s?”
“Oh my God, can we?” Leah perked up.
Ariana nodded, her grip loosening on the wheel. “Sure. I know how much you love it.”
Leah hadn’t stepped foot in a Garrett’s Popcorn store since their last trip to Chicago.
She’d tied it—and everything about it—to Ariana.
After the breakup, she did everything possible to avoid those memories, which meant avoiding the places where they’d been happiest. And that was tough, because right up until the end, they’d been so unbelievably happy—at least, Leah thought they were.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to interrupt your weird hot dog obsession,” Leah joked.
“I think we’ll have time,” Ariana said, a hint of a smile in her voice.
The vibrant yellow-and-blue signage of Garrett’s Popcorn Shop popped against the backdrop of Chicago. As they approached, the sweet, buttery aroma drifted through the air, wrapping Leah in a wave of nostalgia.
They exchanged a look—brief, charged, a silent acknowledgment of the times they’d been here before. Leah’s gaze dropped to Ariana’s hand. She was nervously pressing her thumb against her forefinger—a tell-tale sign Leah remembered well.
Inside, large glass jars brimmed with every flavour imaginable. Leah’s eyes lit up when she spotted the classic Chicago Mix—an irresistible blend of caramel and cheese popcorn.
“I can smell it,” she beamed.
“Do you remember how we used to argue about which flavour was better?” Ariana asked, a playful smile tugging at her lips.
“Of course! You always insisted on the Cheese Corn.”
“And you swore by the Caramel Crisp.”
“It was in this store we tried every single sample until we narrowed it down—then realised they had the Chicago Mix, which was both.” Ariana grinned.
“What did we call it?” Leah knew, of course—but she wanted Ariana to remember too.
Ariana chuckled. “The ‘Areah Blend.’”
“Do you remember telling the assistant?”
“Of course! I spent twenty minutes giving my opinion on each flavour—then went back for a second round of tasting. You know what? I think I still follow her on social media.”
They moved toward the counter, where a smiling young employee offered them samples. Ariana reached for a piece of Cheese Corn, closed her eyes, and let out a low hum. “Mmm. Better than I remember.”
Leah popped three pieces of Caramel Crisp into her mouth. “Wow. Still the best popcorn I’ve ever tasted.” She grinned at Ariana.
They laughed, the tension from the car ride melting like caramel. They ordered a bucket of Chicago Mix to take back to the house. Ariana was still under the impression that tonight was movie night.
Leah cradled the bucket against her chest. As they reached the exit, a voice called out from the left.
“It’s you two!”
The store assistant—beige apron, blue cap—came bouncing over. Leah recognised that spring in her step, making her already tall frame seem taller.
“Did you get the Areah Blend?” she grinned.
“You remember?” Ariana’s eyes widened.
“Well, of course! I’ve been here ten years, and nobody’s ever been as nice to me as you two. I tell all my colleagues about you—even the new recruits. You’re basically the example of perfect customers.”
Leah’s throat tightened. “That’s so sweet. We did wonder if you still worked here.”
“Of course! I got promoted—I’m the store manager now,” Ruth said proudly.
“Congratulations!” Ariana said.
“I was worried for a minute. Haven’t seen you in years—I figured you’d broken up or something.” She laughed, head tilted back. “Should’ve known better. Popcorn-loving couple goals right here.”
Leah swallowed hard. Ariana’s smile faltered.
“Oh . . .did I say something wrong?” Ruth asked, frowning.
“No, it’s just, erm—” Leah’s words jammed in her throat.
“We’ve just had a long morning,” Ariana said smoothly. “Forgive us.”
When Ariana’s hand slipped around Leah’s back and gave her side a quick squeeze, Leah shivered. The gesture was so familiar, so easy.
“Well, don’t let me keep you—but hold on one sec!” Ruth dashed to the counter and came back with a blue sweatshirt. “Spend over $80, you get a free piece of merch.”
“But we didn’t spend $80,” Leah said honestly.
“I know. But you’re my favourites.” Ruth beamed.
“Thank you so much—that’s really kind of you,” Ariana said warmly.
Ariana guided Leah from the store, Ruth waving enthusiastically behind them.
They were almost a block away before Ariana’s hand slipped from Leah’s waist. The space where it had been felt bare.
That brief touch—even through the thick knit of her jumper—stirred something Leah hadn’t felt in five years.
And it terrified her. Every moment, every place, every shared bite of food was a bridge between their past and this fragile present.
In that moment, Leah realised something: even though everything had changed, their bond was rooted in memories too deep to erase. And the scariest part? It might never go away.