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Ali narrowed her eyes at her.

Natasha shrugged, “Wren told me.”

Ali’s head snapped toward her best friend. “You blabbed?”

“In her defense,” Natasha cut in smoothly, leaning against the doorframe. “Birdy is no match for my cross-examination techniques.”

“I’m so sorry,” Wren pleaded, blue eyes going misty. “She hoodwinked me. But I hired her as my lawyer, so she’s bound by client confidentiality.”

“True,” Natasha agreed, looking far too smug. “She pays me in those cake pops from Blend & Brew.”

Lilah jabbed Natasha in the ribs. “You didn’t tell me?”

“I take my clients’ trust very seriously,” Natasha countered, poking under Lilah’s arm, making her yelp and jump away. “Plus. You’re terrible at keeping secrets.”

“I keep plenty of secrets!” Lilah shrieked, pale skin splotching.

“Lilah, I’m sorry no one told you,” Ali jumped in quickly, panic rising. “No one was supposed to know.”

Lilah scrubbed her hands over her face. “So… it’s not real?”

“Depends on your definition of real,” Natasha pointed out.

“How can it not be real?” Lilah screeched, staring at her hands like the universe itself was glitching. “She looks at you like—and you—” she pointed at Ali, “you paint her like she’s the only thing worth painting!”

“It’s real, Bug,” Natasha soothed. “It’s just not… official.”

“It’s complicated,” Ali murmured, fingers twisting together as Willow appeared at her feet, summoned by the emotional distress. She bent to scoop her up, burying her face briefly in soft fur.

“Maybe we should sit down?” Wren prompted, rummaging through the gift basket for something to soothe all of them.

Natasha looked over her shoulder. “On what furniture?”

Less than an hour later, they were unloading the U-haul at the storage unit, passing boxes down the line while Ali word-vomited every fear she’d been sitting on.

“Well,” Wren said, passing a box to Lilah, “sounds like you both want the same things.”

“It sounds like you’ve always wanted the same things,” Lilah grumbled, still not quite over being kept in the dark.

Natasha took the box from Lilah, swiveling to pass it to Ali. “What it sounds like is they need to talk.”

“I just—” Ali began, neatly stacking the box and plopping down on top of it. “When we said we wanted to talk about the possibility of there being more… long-distance wasn’t even a thought. I guess I’m scared that more for her doesn’t include everything that comes with being a professional artist.”

Wren dropped down to sit on the edge of the truck bed, legs dangling over the side. Natasha moved beside her, leaning back against the truck. While Lilah crossed over to her, climbing onto the box beside Ali.

“You sound like you don’t believe she thinks you’re worth waiting three little months for,” Lilah mused, resting her head on Ali’s shoulder.

“I—” Ali sighed, feeling unbearably tired. “I’m just so tired of moving.”

“Then stay,” Lilah said, like it was the easiest thing in the world.

“Go to London,” Wren added, smiling broadly, the sun hitting the silvered skin of the scar that ran along her jaw. “Do your residency. But then come back. Personally, I’ve decided to stick around a little longer.”

Natasha’s brows knitted together as her attention snapped to Wren. “You were thinking about leaving?”

“I mean⁠—”

“Nope! Not allowed,” Natasha barked, glaring at Wren before she whirled on Ali. “You either. You’re going to talk to Charlotte. Because what you have is real and you’re a catch.” Her hands settled firmly on her hips. “No one is moving!”