“Who would I go for?”
“You.”
That answer landed harder than I expected.
“Then don’t go for them.”
A few days later, I bought a blue dress.
On reunion night, I sat in Andrew’s car and pulled the fabric over my stomach.
“Do you want me to drive around the block?” he asked.
“No.”
“We can go home, Leah.”
I looked at the bright entrance. “I want to go in.”
“We can go home, Leah.”
Andrew reached for his seat belt. “Okay.”
“Wait.”
He stopped.
