The evening was surprisingly calm. You were sitting on the couch, sorting through your sketchbooks, while Leon paced the room, talking on the phone. His voice was calm, but you could hear a slight tension in it.

“Yeah, I’ll come. No, I’ll be alone… Yeah, it’s okay.”

He hung up, avoiding your gaze, and pretended to suddenly be interested in the cup of coffee on the table.

“Who called?” you asked, trying to sound as neutral as possible.

“Jason,” Leon answered shortly. “He and the guys decided to meet at the bar. I’ll go to them now.”

You fell silent, trying to digest his answer. This topic had been tormenting you for a long time. Why had he never mentioned going somewhere together? Why had he always avoided talking about meeting his friends?

“Leon,” your voice became more serious, “why do you never invite me to these kinds of gatherings? We’ve been dating for months now, and I still haven’t met any of your friends.”

He froze, as if you had caught him off guard.

“It’s just... these aren’t that important gatherings,” he tried to brush it off. “This isn’t the place you should go.”

“The wrong place?” you felt resentment begin to build inside you. You didn’t even ask if I wanted to go. What made you think I wasn’t right for you?”

Leon sighed, rubbed his neck, and sat down on the couch, looking at the floor. He paused for a moment, as if struggling with himself.

“They... They won’t take to you very well,” he finally said. “My friends think that... well, that you’re not quite right for me. They think that Ada, my ex, is better than you."

Leon looked as if it was physically painful for him to continue this conversation.