Chapter Twenty-Four
I didn’t speak again after that.
Neither did he.
The car rolled forward, smooth and unhurried, like nothing inside it had shifted. Streetlights passed in slow succession, pale halos blooming and fading against the windshield. I watched them slide across Lucky’s face, the way the light caught the edge of his cheekbone, the faint crease between his brows that deepened when he was thinking too hard about something he didn’t want to name.
The silence felt different now. Not sharp. Not bruised.
Settled.
That was when I knew I’d made my decision.
It didn’t arrive with clarity or relief. There was no dramatic click in my chest, no sudden certainty. Just a quiet understanding that fighting him had gotten me nowhere—and that if I kept pushing, I would only tighten whateve
