The quiet after the storm was a living thing, soft and breathless. I lay between them, Leo's heartbeat under my ear, Eva's steady breathing against my back. The initial, overwhelming wave had receded, leaving my nerves singing and my mind startlingly clear. Leo's hand stroked my arm, a slow, absent caress. He spoke first, his voice a gravelly whisper into the dark. “I don't... I don't even know your name." A soft laugh came from behind me. “Eva.”
“Eva,” he repeated, testing the shape of it.
“I’m Leo. This is Maya.”
“I know,” she said, and I could hear the smile in her voice. “You talk about her.
When you were at the bar getting your drinks. You said, ‘My wife would love this cocktail.’ Not ‘she’d like it.’ Love it.” I tilted my head back to look at Leo. His eyes were soft with wond
