“Oh, absolutely.”
She picks up the remote from the coffee table, aiming it at the TV with a dramatic air. The screen wakes up, bathing the room in a soft, blue glow as the streaming app loads. “I’ve already got the ‘Top Crime Picks’ category pulled up. I say we keep the tradition alive.”
I shake my head, but I’m smiling as I follow her to the sofa.
She scrolls through the rows of posters, and finally, stops on a thumbnail and taps it, the trailer instantly swelling with tension.
“This is the one,” she says with a playful smirk. “It has it all—drama, betrayal, and very stylish crimes.”
“Perfect,” I reply, amused.
Jane pauses the screen and heads for the kitchen.
“Now let’s make some popcorn and open another bottle of wine.”
“Do you happen to have any parmesan?” I ask, following her to the kitchen.
Jane glances at me, puzzled.
Before she can ask, I grin and explain.
„I came up with my own version of popcorn during all those nights I kept up the therapy you taught me—popcorn, extra butter, and… grated parmigiano. It’s perfect for Italian gangster movies. Though honestly, I think Italians would kill us for using parmigiano like this.”
She laughs, delighted. “Let’s do it!”
Minutes later, as she sets up the movie, she glances back at me over her shoulder.
“You’re staying tonight, of course,” she says simply. “Your old room’s exactly as you left it. It’s still yours.”
Something in me unclenches. I nod, smiling.
“That’s an offer I can’t refuse,” I say, giving her a playful look.
She laughs, shaking her head.
“Still quoting mob movies at me, huh?”
“Some habits die hard,” I grin. “But really — thank you. I wasn’t looking forward to going back to that hotel room.”
I really needed this safe place tonight. Away from the peonies and… everything else.
“Please. I love having you here. I’m really happy you came.”
A little later, curled up on the couch, she pops a handful of popcorn into her mouth and grins.
“Yum… this is actually really good. I’m definitely making it again next time.”
I smile, watching her, warmed by how effortlessly we’ve fallen back into this rhythm.
For the first time in a long while, it feels like home again — light, familiar, safe.
And just like that, the past and present blur together—two women, a couch, and a quiet night where, for a little while, nothing else has to matter.
* * *
Later that night, after we finish the movie and the last of the wine, Jane leads me upstairs. “I kept your old room just the way it was,” she says with a soft smile, flipping on the hallway light.
The familiar creak of the stairs wraps around me like a sound I’d forgotten.
