He Hated Me Until The Rainy Night

Chapter 6: He Drove Me Home

7:14 AM. The storm was gone. The tension wasn't.

Power was back. Elevators worked. The city looked like it had been chewed up and spit out.

Victor didn't say a word when he tossed me his car keys.

"Come on."

"Where are we going?"

"To pay your mom's bill. Then I'm taking you home."

I stared. "You don't have to"

"I know." He cut me off. "Get in."

His car smelled like leather and coffee. The same cedar. We drove in silence down FDR Drive. Water was still pooled on the sides. People were shoveling mud out of stores.

My phone buzzed. “Payment received. See you at 8AM, Mrs. Bennett.”

Jackson Group Emergency Fund.

I didn't know what to say. So I said nothing.

Twenty minutes later, we hit the Brooklyn underpass.

The car sputtered. Once. Twice.

Then died.

Victor cursed. Pulled over. Steam was rising from the hood.

"Perfect," he muttered. "Flash flood fried the engine."

We were stuck. Under an underpass. With nowhere to go.

Silence.

I checked my phone. 7:38 AM. Mom's chemo was in 22 minutes.

"I have to call an Uber," I said.

"No service." He held up his phone. One bar. Flickering. "And tow trucks won't come for hours. Streets are still closed."

So we sat.

The morning light came through the windshield. He looked wrecked. No tie. White shirt wrinkled. 3 days of stubble.

"You look tired," I said before I could stop myself.

"You look worse."

A pause. Then we both laughed. Small. Tired.

It felt dangerous.

"About last night," he started.

"Don't."

"I need to." He turned in his seat to face me. "That text. Box 214. If it's real"

"It is."

"If it's real, then I did this to you." His voice cracked. "I called people. I told them you were reckless. I made sure you couldn't work."

"I know."

"I thought I was protecting Lily." He dragged a hand through his hair. "But what if I was just protecting myself? From the fact that it was Vanessa. From the fact that my family did this."

The air in the car felt too thick.

"Victor," I whispered.

He looked at me. Really looked. And for the first time in 3 years, there was no hate.

Just exhaustion. And something else. Something I remembered from before.

His eyes dropped to my mouth.

My breath caught.

He leaned in. Slow. Like he was asking permission without words.

I didn't move back.

His hand came up. Brushed my cheek. His thumb was calloused. Warm.

"Say stop," he whispered.

I couldn't.

We were an inch apart. I could feel his breath. Smell coffee on him.

Then his phone buzzed. Loud.

Both of us jerked back like we'd been burned.

Hospital: "Mrs. Bennett is being prepped for chemo. Are you on your way?"

The moment shattered.

Victor exhaled. Hard. Ran both hands over his face.

"I can't," he said. "Not like this. Not with everything between us."

"I know." My voice was shaking.

He got out. Popped the hood. Pretended to care about the engine while I pretended to check my phone.

Two hours.

Two hours we sat there. Talking about nothing. The weather. The traffic. Lily's favorite cereal.

Anything but the almost kiss.

At 9:47 AM a tow truck finally came.

Victor paid the driver. Then drove me the rest of the way to Brooklyn in silence.

When we pulled up to my building, I reached for the door.

"Sally."

I turned.

He was gripping the steering wheel so hard his knuckles were white.

"Tomorrow. Grand Central. Box 214. 10AM."

It wasn't a question.

"Okay."

I got out. Closed the door.

As I walked up the steps, I heard him say one more thing through the open window.

So quiet I almost didn't catch it.

"I don't hate you anymore."

Then he drove off.