"Leanne."
Nico said her name the moment he stepped through the door. His boots barely made a sound against the floor, but the word alone was enough to still the air in the room.
Leanne’s face lit up before the weight of it caught up with her. The excitement drained out of her all at once, like a candle snuffed mid-flicker. She sat frozen for a long moment, maybe longer, just staring. Then, slowly, a smile crept onto her face.
"Nico..." She muttered slowly. "It’s you. You survived. You’re alive."
"Yeah, it’s me." Nico said, not moving an inch from where he stood. "And you’re back."
"Yes. Yes, I’m back. I can’t believe it myself." Tears welled up her eyes. "I don’t know how long I was gone. Everything’s changed so much now. The whole city looks like it got renovated. Everything’s just so.... different."
"Two years." Nico replied, looking deeply into her deep red eyes. "You’ve been dead for two years."
"Oh..."
Nico had counted every one of those days since the bullet meant for him tore through her instead. Two years had passed, and a few more besides.
He’d stood at her grave just last month, same as he always did, saying nothing, leaving flowers he never quite knew how to choose.
Even back then, in the quiet after her death, he used to wonder what it would feel like to stand in front of her again. So much time had gone by. So much of what he’d felt for her had gone cold along with it.
He’d pictured the moment more than once. Would he run to her? Pull her into his arms without a word? Press his lips to hers and finally say sorry for not keeping her safe?
But now that she was actually here, standing close enough to touch, his stomach only tightened. There was no rush of feeling, no flood of old memory. Just a strange, hollow discomfort he couldn’t name.
And underneath that discomfort sat something colder still. The sense that she hadn’t come back for him at all. That somewhere behind her eyes, an occultist who wanted him dead was pulling every string.
"I need to know who brought you back, Leanne."
Nico said, moving straight into business. Following his question, Leanne’s eyes lowered at him.
"Really, Nico? You see me for the first time in two years and that’s the only thing you can say?"
"This is serious, Leanne."
"What’s serious is that the girl you love is back to you now!" She yelled back, tears filling her eyes. "And I...I thought you’d be happier to see me or something, but you only sound like you wanted me to remain dead."
Nico watched her talk as she cried, and for a second there, he knew it was her. Leanne. She always did this. For as long as he’d known her, she’d always been a crybaby.
He crossed the space between them and set a hand on her shoulder, gentle, the way he used to.
"I didn’t mean to sound like that, Leanne." He said it with a calmer tone this time. "Stay for dinner. We can talk things over later."
Nico walked away with that.
***
Dinner didn’t go as well as Nico had expected. It started on a clean line, at least.
Jeff had outdone himself, laying out a feast heavy with wagyu, truffle oil, chive, parmesan, shaved black truffle, Dover sole, bone marrow, roasted garlic, duck fat potatoes, roasted asparagus, and saffron risotto.
A row of desserts followed, none of which Nico could have named if asked. The dishes crowded the table edge to edge, and even a table that size barely had room left over.
Four chairs were filled that night. Himself, Kira, Nira, and Leanne. Mira’s plate had gone up the stairs with Jeff instead, for reasons nobody needed spelling out.
Leanne took the seat at the front edge of the table, right beside Nico. She’d arrived second, clearly just as hungry as he was, maybe more.
Kira and Nira came in not long after. The moment the three women landed eyes on each other, something hostile and confused passed between them, quick as a struck match.
"Who is she?"
Kira asked. Leanne’s question came just immediately.
"Who are they?"
Nico kept his face neutral, calm on the surface. Underneath, his stomach had already knotted itself twice over, tension rolling off him in waves he hoped nobody could see.
Dinner had barely started, and he already hated himself for it.
"Girls, meet Leanne." Nico finally spoke, deliberating with a hand. "Leanne, meet Mira and Kira. My wives."
Leanne’s face dropped at the mention of that last word. Nico had braced for it, half expecting it the second the sentence left his mouth.
She gave a slow nod, accepting the introduction, then reached for her fork and gripped it tight. She didn’t move. It looked like she was fighting something behind her eyes, some thought she didn’t want to let loose at the table.
"And who is she to you?"
Kira asked as she took a seat, giving Leanne a pair of suspecting eyes.
"Let’s just say, she’s my long lost acquaintance." Nico explained. "We used to be very close back in the day."
"Very close, huh?"
"Yeah, actually very close." Leanne butt in with a fake smile on her face. "One could say we were in love with each other.’
Nico held his forehead and looked down.
’Oh, this is so not going to go well.’
"Lovers, really?" Kira returned the fake smile. "Now I’m curious. What were you two like?"
"Lovebirds, mostly. We had this, mafia soldier and adventurous girlfriend kind of thing going on. Back then, he was just Silas’s underboss, but he took care of me like a mafia boss would."
Leanne kept eating as she talked, unbothered by the tension. Kira didn’t touch her plate. Anger simmered behind her expression even as the smile stayed fixed in place. Nira didn’t seem to notice any of it, too busy working through her own food.
"He would always assume that his profession was his entire life. But after meeting me, he started to do other things. Travel. Shopping. Living like a normal human being, you know?"
"I get you. I totally do."
Kira replied with a hardened face. Despite all of that, she still kept her smile.
"It’s just too bad we had to break up." Leanne sighed. "But for logical reasons, of course. Not that either of us wanted rid of the other, right, Nico?"
She grabbed her arm around his gently. Nico gulped, the sudden closeness of her catching him off guard.
"Right."
She leaned further into him, close enough that Nico could feel the warmth of her chest press against his arm. Soft. Familiar in a way that unsettled him more than it comforted him.
"Can you pass me the salt, please?"
"Sure."
Nico grabbed the salt jar and handed to her.
"Thanks, love."