The next day, I received a text message from Jack the next morning.
“I'm outside, waiting for you,” the message indicated. I hurriedly prepared for whatever drama may unfold.
Jack’s knuckles turned white on the steering wheel as he drove us away from the resort. The silence between us was palpable, broken only by the hum of the car’s engine. After the confrontation with Patrick, I half-expected Jack to leave me alone to figure things out. Instead, he’d told me to grab my shoes and get in the car, offering no explanation.
“Where are we going?” I finally asked, my voice cutting through the tension.
He glanced at me, his jaw tight. “Somewhere quiet.”
That was all he said. I didn’t press further. Maybe I didn’t want to. After all the chaos and accusations, a break from the madness sounded
