she stretches and makes a move to clear both our empty dishes. “Sit your ass down. I’ve got these.” I reach over to grab hers. “It’s fine, I don’t mind.” Layla tries to clutch the plate while perched on her stool at the kitchen island. I’ve got a dining table, it just never gets used. This has always been the place I prefer to sit and eat and Layla seems to feel the same way. “You cooked.” She lets out a little laugh and finally relents, allowing me to yank the plate away from her. “The things you don’t realize until you see the alternative.”
