They didn't leave right away.
After the food was gone and the plates were cleared, Ava and Alex lingered at the table, cups refilled, conversations drifting from favorite movies to bad hospital coffee to why Pearl insisted on calling documentaries "fancy bedtime stories." The light shifted gradually from steel grey to soft amber as the sun finally broke through for real.
"I swear," Ava said, nudging her cup with her finger, "she thinks dinosaurs went extinct because they were bored."
Alex snorted. "That… actually tracks."
She smiled faintly, looking up at the warm-hued sky. "Thanks for today."
"You needed it."
"I did."
When the check came, Ava reached for it automatically.
Alex intercepted it with a hand. "You bought everyone champagne at the gala. I'm covering grief fries."
"Grief fries and rooftop therapy?" she teased. "You're going to spoil me."
