The dawn found us tangled in the same bed, and though every part of me wanted to stay there until noon, we had to leave.
The night’s rain had left a silver sheen on the asphalt, and mist spiraled lazily through the trees. Ethan drove with an unusual calm — a stillness I hadn’t seen in him before.
I watched the scenery blur past the window, still trying to process the night before. The silence between us felt different now. It wasn’t that sharp, electric tension full of unsaid anger. It was quiet — but comfortable. Ethan rolled the window down slightly, letting in the cool air.
“Did you sleep at all?” he asked without looking away from the road.
“A little. You?”
“Enough,” he said evenly, though I doubted he’d slept either.
We fell quiet again. The morning sun was beginning to break th
