We kept eating. The conversation stayed light and easy, the earlier awkwardness mostly gone. A few minutes later both plates were empty.
"Wow. That was actually nice," I said, leaning back a little.
"Yeah. I think I'm getting warmer to sushi, can't lie."
"You just said you didn't like it."
"I also told you not to listen to pregnant women."
"Fair enough." I chuckled and stood up. "Let me get the plates for you."
"You don't have to."
"It's fine."
"Oh… thanks."
I gathered the plates and chopsticks, carried them into the small kitchen, rinsed everything under the tap, and loaded them into the dishwasher. Behind me I heard Layla push her chair back with a soft groan.
"Wine?" she asked, one hand resting on her belly as she stood.
"Sure. But I'm okay with beer if you've got any."
"Not a wine person?"
"Nope."
"Lucky for you, I have both."
"Sweet. You sit back down, I'll get the wine for you and a beer for myself."
"Thank you. The wine's in that cabinet."
