He rounded the hood and slid into the driver's seat.
The silence inside the car pressed in on both of us. It was full of everything that had almost been said. I could feel the heat radiating from him and his arms tight on the steering wheel.
He pulled into the street with unnerving smoothness. Streetlights passed in pale streaks outside the window and my head throbbed in rhythm with them. I kept my hands folded in my lap, afraid that any movement might fracture whatever fragile control he was clinging to.
"You scared her," he said finally.
My voice felt scraped raw as I asked, "Who?"
"My mother." His tone wavered just enough on the second word that I heard it before he flattened it again. "When she texted me, she sounded afraid you had decided not to return. She thought she might have
