~Maeve~
“I thought we were going to the viewpoint?” I say when I see Dylan turn around a familiar but the incorrect route. We haven’t spoken in the past ten minutes we’ve been in the car, but now that Dylan’s route diversion has me speaking up.
“We are. We are just making a pit stop at my place before then,” he simply says like that is supposed to put all my agitation to rest. And, he’s right. It does put my disquiet into rest, almost immediately. When we reach the all too well-known apartment building that holds the agent’s unit, he turns and drives into the spacious underground parking garage that is lit up with blue-tinted white lights. Pulling into what seems like his usual parking space, Dylan steps out and opens my door to let me out. When I do, I say, “Dylan, not to say I do
