Page 62 of Five Years

Thank you for allowing me the opportunity to get

to know you outside of what we used to be.

My love for you never changed, it simply took on

a new meaning, and that’s okay.

I wish you all the happiness in the world.

God damn it, Grace.

Leah closed her eyes briefly, trying to compose herself. The paragraph was sweet, in a sense. It crossed a line—teetering between too far and still forgivable—but she could live with it.

And, in truth, she meant it.

Somehow Grace had climbed inside her head and arranged the words in a neater order.

What she couldn’t live with was the sign-off.

All my love,

Leah

Not just a simplefromor evenlove. She might as well have writtenI will always love youin bold letters with a red heart and a lipstick kiss.

“When you say you feel the same, what do you mean exactly?” Leah asked.

“All of it.”

“Okay . . .still not 100% sure what you mean.”

“Do you need me to repeat everything you said?” Ariana laughed.

“It might help.”

And she did—almost word for word. Leah’s heart swelled. She looked at Ariana’s lips, pale pink tinged with blue as the cold crept in. She shouldn’t want to kiss them, but she did.

“Do you know, when we got home earlier, before I saw Hannah, you were going to say something.”

“I was?” Leah replied.

“Yeah, you said my name, then went quiet.”

“I don’t remember.”

She did. Vividly.

Every interaction with Ariana was imprinted in her brain like a childhood song. It didn’t matter how many years passed, or how many other songs played in between—she remembered every lyric.

“What is it you’re afraid of, Leah?” Ariana whispered.

“Excuse me?”

“You keep shutting me out. I just want to know what you’re feeling,” Ariana said.

“You lost any right to know my feelings years ago.” Leah snapped.

“See? This is what you do—you shut down, you don’t give us a chance to talk it out, to understand each other. That’s why—”