Chapter 25- Rhett
406 Words
She didn’t relax when she got in. Not fully. Most people did. Shifted in the seat. Let the moment pass. Filled the space with something small, something easy. She didn’t. She stayed aware. Of everything. That was the first thing I noticed.
The second was how quiet she went without shutting down completely. There was a difference. She wasn’t closed off. She was choosing what to give and what to hold back. That took effort. That meant something. I didn’t say anything right away. Didn’t need to. Let the silence sit long enough to see what she did with it.
When she answered, it matched what I already knew. Controlled. Measured. But not distant. That part mattered. When she said it depended on who she was with, I didn’t miss what she meant. Didn’t push it either. Just let it land. Let her feel that I heard it without making it something bigger.
When she asked if I picked people up like that, I almost smiled. Didn’t. But I felt it. That told me more than anything else she had said. She noticed. Not just what I did. Who did I do it for? That wasn’t accidental. So I answered straight.
No.
Just her.
That was enough.
The way she looked at me after that stayed.
Then she checked the mirror. Quick. Small. But not small enough. I noticed. I always did. Didn’t call it out right away. Gave it a second. Watched the way she corrected it, forcing herself to look forward again like it didn’t mean anything.
Then I asked. Not pushing. Just enough.
Her answer came too fast. That told me everything I needed to know.
Still, I didn’t push it further. Not here. Not like this.
“Road’s clear.”
That was all I gave her. Something simple. Something steady. If she needed it.
The tension in the truck shifted after that. Not gone. Just… different. Closer. When we turned onto the last road, the firelight cut through the trees ahead, flickering through the branches, voices carrying just enough to break the quiet. People. Noise. Normal.
Still, I didn’t miss the way she didn’t move right away when I stopped. Her hand on the door. Not opening it. Like she was deciding something. Like stepping out meant more than it should. That didn’t sit right.
I didn’t say anything about it. Just waited.
Gave her the space to make the move herself.
- Writer
