Chloe’s pov

By six the kitchen was cleaned and the leftover chicken sat in the fridge.

Elena grabbed the second bottle of wine from the counter and held it up with a raised eyebrow.

“Porch or couch?”

“Porch. It’s cooler out there now.”

She nodded and I followed her through the sliding door into the soft evening air. 

The backyard was quiet except for the distant hum of a neighbor’s mower and the occasional bird. 

We sat on the cushioned bench that faced the empty lawn, close enough that our thighs touched the second we settled. 

Elena twisted the cork out with a soft pop and poured two generous glasses. ...