Talk To Me

Chapter Ten

February thirteenth

The girls had agreed to go to bed early, but Leah had spent the night tossing and turning. Sleep refused to come easily when the most exciting event of her life was only hours away. Her mind buzzed with anticipation, making the quiet darkness of her room feel suffocating.

When her alarm rang at three a.m., Leah was already wide awake, staring at the plain white ceiling. She exhaled sharply, shaking off the remnants of her restless thoughts. Images from two days ago still clung to her mind—Mark's voice, his expression—but now wasn't the time to think about him. She pushed herself upright and turned on the bedside lamp, its soft glow casting long shadows across her room.

Rubbing her left eye, she noticed a crusty yellow residue on her fingertip. She grimaced and wiped it on the sheets before shifting her gaze to the framed photograph on her nightstand. A small smile touched her lips.

The picture captured a moment of simplicity—her and Oliver at his graduation, his black cap and gown stark against her white dress. They stood side by side, smiling at the camera, frozen in time before everything grew complicated. He had been lighter then, easier to read. She wondered if coming back to Dover after all these years felt bittersweet for him. It certainly did for her.

Pushing the covers away, Leah slid out of bed and stretched, taking in the familiar comfort of her space. Her white sheets were rumpled from her restless night, so she smoothed them out almost absentmindedly. The act felt ingrained, though she couldn't recall when it had become second nature.

Growing up in her father's house, making the bed had never been a priority. Back then, she had always felt more like a housekeeper than a daughter—cooking, cleaning, and doing laundry left little time for school, let alone for herself. Maybe that was why she had been so desperate to move out.

Satisfied with the state of her bed, Leah stepped toward the door but yelped as her foot collided with her suitcase. She had nearly forgotten about the packed luggage sprawled across the wooden floor. Muttering under her breath, she flicked on the ceiling light, grabbed her silk robe from the chair, and draped it over her bare arms. The cool fabric glided over her skin as she twisted her curls into a messy bun.

Faint voices drifted from the living room. Leah hesitated, then stepped out of her bedroom, drawn toward the sound. The apartment was mostly dark except for the soft glow spilling from the kitchen. As she approached, the voices became clearer.

"I hinted that we could do it with no commitment," Cassie's voice carried a playful edge. "But he refused. What an asshole."

Leah smirked, leaning against the doorway. "Who's an asshole?" she asked, folding her arms.

Cassie stood behind the kitchen island, pouring steaming coffee into a row of black mugs. Her red short hair was slightly disheveled from sleep, but she still carried herself with effortless confidence. Across from her, Lily sat perched on a stool, her long black hair draping over her shoulders as she turned toward Leah.

"Your brother, who else?" Cassie laughed, tossing her head back dramatically.

Leah rolled her eyes and took a seat beside Lily. "I told you—he's not interested," she teased. "And good morning, by the way."

Cassie waved off the greeting, her grin mischievous. "Well, I still had to try. He's so mysterious," she added, turning to Lily as if pleading her case. "I think it's his eyes—I could just stare at them all day." She bit her bottom lip, tilting her head as if lost in a daydream.

Leah scoffed, shaking her head. "Stop dreaming."

Cassie smirked but didn't argue. Instead, she pushed the coffee cups across the counter. "Drink up. I'm going to get dressed—and dream about Oliver." She winked before sauntering out of the kitchen.