By the time my husband, Drew, asked if Lila could stay with us, I’d already wiped down the kitchen counters twice and lined up the spice rack.
That was what stress did to me. It didn’t make me cry first; it made me tidy up.
“She has nowhere else to go, Aria,” Drew said. “Her apartment’s gone. It’s just for a week, maybe two.”
I kept scrubbing a clean counter. “You haven’t mentioned Lila in years.”
“We reconnected a few months ago.”
I looked up. “A few months ago?”
He nodded. “Aria, please. I wouldn’t ask if it wasn’t serious.”
“You haven’t mentioned Lila in years.”
That should have bothered me more than it did. But after seven years of IVF clinics, shots, failed transfers, and careful heartbreak, I had started to hate the version of myself that looked suspicious all the time.
So I said yes.
Lila arrived two days later with one suitcase and a tired smile.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“The guest room is down the hall,” I said.
Drew stepped past me and took her suitcase. “And watch the loose board by the linen closet,” he told her.
So I said yes.
I turned. “I didn’t know you remembered that.”
He paused. “I almost tripped on it once, Aria.”
Lila moved through the house carefully, but not like a guest. She moved like someone trying not to disturb a place that was already settled.
That first night, Drew made her tea in my favorite mug.
The next afternoon, my best friend, Naomi, called while I was reorganizing the fridge.
“You’re stress-cleaning,” she said.
“I’m not.”
“Girl, you once polished a toaster because your aunt asked if you were nervous.”
“I almost tripped on it once, Aria.”
I shut the fridge and picked up my phone, turning off the speak. “Drew’s college friend is staying with us for a while.”
Naomi sighed. “That’s why your voice sounds strained.”
I glanced down the hallway. “Something feels off.”
“In what way?”
“Drew’s different.”
“Different how?”
I hesitated. ‘I woke up at two this morning, and he wasn’t in bed. He was standing outside her door with his face pressed to it.’
“Something feels off.”
“Doing what?”
“Listening, I think.”
“Oh, absolutely not, Aria. This sounds creepy.”
“No,” Naomi said. “You always say that right before you start explaining away your own instincts.”
“I don’t want to be cruel.”
Naomi’s voice softened. “Being aware isn’t cruel, Aria. Being aware is how you stop people from making a fool of you.”
“This sounds creepy.”
That night, Drew carried a bowl of soup down the hall.
I looked up from the sink. “For Lila?”
He didn’t stop. “She wasn’t feeling well.”
“What kind of sick?”
He turned, just enough to look at me over his shoulder. “Just… tired. Maybe she’s drained from the move.”
“Lucky she landed in a house with room service.”
“Aria.”
“What?” I snapped. “I’m just saying.”
“She wasn’t feeling well.”
“You don’t have to turn everything into a knife, Aria.”
I gave a short laugh. “That’s rich.”
He took the soup to her anyway.
A minute later, I heard his voice through the guest room door, low and careful.
“You should’ve called me sooner.”
I couldn’t hear the answer.
Then Drew said, “Just rest. I’ll handle it.”
I gave a short laugh.
The next morning, I found Lila in the kitchen making tea. She looked pale, like she’d slept badly, or not at all.
“Drew said you’re not feeling well,” I said. “What’s going on?”
She kept her eyes on the mug. “I’m okay.”
“You don’t look okay, Lila.”
That made her glance up.
“You’ve been tired for days,” I said. “What’s going on?”
Her fingers tightened around the mug. “I don’t mean to be any trouble.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“What’s going on?”
She swallowed. “Drew said this was the best place for me to be, Aria. I’m grateful to you and him… for everything.”
Before I could answer, he walked in.
“There you are,” he said to Lila quickly. “Did you take the vitamins?”
My head turned. “What vitamins?”
Lila froze.
Drew grabbed the bottle off the counter. “Iron. She was a little low. But she’s going to the doctor later for a full check-up.”
“What vitamins?”
I stared at the label. Prenatal vitamins – the same kind I’d researched during our last IVF round.
Drew met my gaze and then turned away.
Later, when Lila left for a doctor’s appointment and Drew shut himself in his office, I stood outside the guest room with the vacuum in one hand and trash bag in the other, telling myself I was cleaning, not snooping.