Chapter Seven
We didn't separate immediately.
That was the thing.
Even after Hannah had her arm looped through Julian's and was already steering him toward the door, he slowed without realizing it, just enough that I fell into step beside them instead of trailing behind like an afterthought.
"So," Hannah said, glancing between us as we walked, "are we all going the same way, or is this where I dramatically steal him."
Julian sighed. "You're not stealing anyone."
She smiled. "Yet."
I laughed before I could stop myself. "You're exhausting."
"Thank you," she said proudly. "I work hard at it."
Outside, the street was busy, afternoon traffic humming, people weaving past us, and somehow we ended up walking three abreast, Hannah talking animatedly about dinner plans, Julian responding easily, and me adding comments here and there, the dynamic awkward for exactly thirty seconds before settling into something oddly functional.
Hannah bumped Julian's shoulder lightly. "You're quiet."
"I'm listening," he said.
"You always say that," she replied. "But your eyes keep wandering."
I raised an eyebrow. "Should I be flattered."
He groaned. "Please don't encourage her."
Hannah laughed. "Oh, I absolutely will."
At the corner, she stopped suddenly. "Wait. You're coming with us."
"With who," I asked.
"With me and Julian," she said, like it was obvious. "I need a second opinion on food."
Julian blinked. "Since when do you ask for second opinions."
"Since I met people who disagree with me," she replied, then looked at me. "You eat like someone with standards."
"That's the nicest insult I've gotten all week," I said.
We ended up at a small place just off the main road, the kind that didn't look like much but always smelled incredible, and Hannah claimed a booth immediately, sliding in beside Julian before either of us could decide where to sit.
I sat across from them, amused despite myself.
"This feels intentional," Julian muttered.
"Everything I do is intentional," Hannah said. "You'll get used to it."
Menus came and went, jokes followed, Julian and I falling into our usual back-and-forth without thinking, Hannah watching us with open interest, occasionally interrupting, occasionally laughing like she'd just stumbled into a show she hadn't expected.
"You two really do this a lot," she said at one point, resting her chin on her hand.
"What," Julian asked.
"Finish each other's thoughts," she replied. "It's unsettling."
I shrugged. "We've had practice."
Hannah smiled slowly. "I like that."
Julian glanced at me. "She's lying. She's planning something."
"Always," Hannah said cheerfully.
When it was time to leave, Hannah stood first, stretching, then looked at Julian. "You're still coming tonight."
He nodded. "I said I would."
She turned to me. "You're invited too."
I blinked. "Am I."
"Of course," she said. "I like you. And I don't like mysteries."
Julian looked between us. "This is escalating."
"Everything good does," Hannah replied.
We stepped outside again, the late afternoon light softer now, and for a brief moment, all three of us stood there, no one rushing off, no one quite ready to end the day.
"I'll text you," Hannah said to Julian, squeezing his hand once before stepping back. "Don't disappear."
"I won't," he said.
She looked at me. "Don't let him."
"I never do," I replied.
She smiled, satisfied, then turned and walked away, confident even in retreat.
Julian exhaled slowly.
"Well," he said, "that happened."
I laughed. "She's… memorable."
"That's one word for it."
We started walking again, just the two of us this time, the familiar rhythm returning easily, like it always did.
"You okay," he asked after a moment.
"Yeah," I said. "Why."
He shrugged. "You've been quiet."
"So have you."
He smiled. "Fair."
We walked the rest of the way without rushing, not talking much, not needing to, the city moving around us while something unspoken settled comfortably between us, unchanged and yet, somehow, newly aware of itself.
And neither of us mentioned the third chair.