Bryson's POV
We head back to our place in silence, but it's not the uncomfortable kind. Just two people existing in the same space, both drained from the day's emotional chaos.
Julian looks tired when I glance over at him. His shoulders are slumped slightly, one hand on the wheel while the other rests against his thigh.
I want to say something comforting, something that might ease whatever weight he's carrying. But the words don't come. I don't know how to comfort Julian Hayes without it feeling awkward or forced.
So I stay quiet, watching the streetlights blur past my window.
When we finally pull into the parking lot and head upstairs, the apartment feels like a relief from whatever we had just faced.
Julian drops his keys on the counter and runs a hand through his hai
