By the time we turned the first corner away from my house, my pulse was finally starting to settle. Not much, but enough that I could pretend every step forward was pushing the morning behind me. The crisp air stung my cheeks, the distant hum of traffic drowned out the echo of Damian’s voice, and the pressure of Taylor’s hand around mine was the only thing holding me upright.
He didn’t say a word.
Not at first.
And honestly, I was grateful for the silence, or I thought I was. But as the minutes passed, the quiet changed shape. It grew heavier, denser, sharp enough that I felt it pressing against my skin. Taylor wasn’t usually quiet around me. Even when he wasn’t talking, he filled the air with his presence, with restless energy or soft muttering or little nudges that reminded me he was
