“You’re supposed to be in therapy,” he said finally.
“I finished.
“And then you ran away.”
“I didn’t run,” I said automatically. “I walked.”
“Mm.” He leaned back slightly. “A very emotionally charged walk.”
I shot him a look. “Are you done?”
“No.”
Of course not. Silence settled again, but this time it didn’t feel empty. It felt like something was waiting to be said and neither of us wanted to be the first to touch it.
Eventually, Dylan spoke again.
“Do you want to talk about it?” His tone was simple, with no pressure in it. He wasn't even insisting. It just sat like a question between us.
I didn’t answer immediately, and he didn’t push. That, for some reason, made my throat tighten more.
“No,” I said finally.
“Okay.” He nodded once like that settled it.
More time passed befo
