The Quite Ridge

Chapter 23- Rhett

I was already on the road before the message came through. Didn’t need the address to start moving in the right direction. When it buzzed in my pocket, I checked it at the next stop.

214 Pine Hollow Road.

Simple. Straight. No extra words. That matched everything else about her.

I didn’t text back anything else after I told her I’d be there. Didn’t need to. The road out to her place was quieter than most, trees lining both sides, long stretches without lights. Not somewhere I liked the idea of someone driving alone at night. That wasn’t new. That was just how it was. Still, I didn’t take my time getting there.

The drive gave me too much space to think. Not about anything specific. Just enough to notice the feeling that had been sitting there since the night before. Something wasn’t right. I didn’t know what. Didn’t have anything solid to point to. Just small things. The way she answered. The way she didn’t. The way she watched everything without letting it show.

When I pulled into the driveway, the place looked exactly like I expected. Too quiet. Too dark. No extra lights on. No movement. That didn’t sit right. I shut the truck off and stepped out, the night settling around me immediately. Still. Too still. I walked up to the door without rushing, but not slow either, knocking once, firm enough to carry through.

A second later, the light shifted inside. Then the door opened. She was already there. Faster than she should’ve been. Like she had been waiting for it. That didn’t go unnoticed. I didn’t say anything about it. Just looked at her.

Up close, it was clearer. Something was off. Not obvious. Not enough to call out. But it was there. In the way her shoulders held tension just under the surface. In the way her breathing wasn’t quite even yet. In the way her eyes moved for half a second before settling on me.

“You ready?” I asked.

Simple. Gave her the choice.

“Yeah,” she said.

Too quick.

I held her gaze for a second longer than I needed to. Not pushing. Just checking. Then stepped back, giving her space.

“After you.”

She moved past me, close enough to notice. Same as before. Same pull. Stronger now. I didn’t react. Didn’t let it show. Just turned and followed her toward the truck, watching the way she locked the door without thinking about it.

Like it mattered more than it should have.

That stuck.

I didn’t ask.

Not yet.