THE ONE WHO WAITED

CHAPTER 4: QUIET STORM

The soft thrum of Drey’s car was a quiet, steady rhythm. Isla sat beside him, her hand brushing against his whenever she laughed at some little thing, her hair damp and clinging to her cheeks. The city streets glistened under the rain, headlights reflecting off puddles, but he barely noticed any of it. All he could see was her.

“You’re still staring,” she whispered, half-tease, half-truth, a faint blush on her cheeks.

“I can’t help it,” Drey murmured, brushing a wet strand of hair from her temple. “After seven years… I won’t let this moment go unnoticed.”

Isla smiled softly, leaning slightly closer. “I thought you’d forgotten how to talk to me. Or how to look at me without scaring me.”

“You don’t scare me,” Drey said quietly, letting his fingers linger near hers. “You… you’re everything I’ve waited for.”

Shuga, perched in the back seat with her tablet, tapped the screen absently, pretending to check emails. But she couldn’t stop watching them especially the way Drey’s hand kept brushing Isla’s, the way Isla laughed, leaning into him. A small pang of jealousy twisted inside her. Not anger, not resentment, but just a hollow ache.

“You two are hopelessly romantic,” she muttered under her breath. “Absolutely ridiculous.”

Drey glanced back at her in the rearview mirror, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Shuga, I thought you were supposed to be helping, not critiquing our love story.”

“I am helping,” she shot back, her gaze glued to the tablet. “Monitoring traffic. Making sure you don’t drive off a cliff.”

Isla laughed, resting her hand lightly on Drey’s arm. “She’s adorable when she’s serious.”

The car slowed as they approached Isla’s apartment building. Drey cut the engine, and the gentle patter of the rain seemed suddenly louder in the silence.

“You okay?” Drey asked softly, turning to her.

She nodded, gripping his hand briefly. “Perfect. Just perfect.”

Shuga exhaled sharply and got out. “I’ll wait in the car,” she muttered, checking her tablet one last time. “Don’t do anything insane.”

“We won’t,” Drey said, forcing a calm smile.

As Isla stepped out of the car, Drey noticed movement across the street a figure stepping out of a dimly lit doorway, pausing as if checking the car. The figure was quick, deliberate, and didn't linger.

Drey frowned but kept quiet. He tried to rationalize it maybe a pedestrian, maybe a neighbor. But something about the figure felt wrong.

“Drey?” Isla’s voice brought him back. She was smiling up at him, unaware of the brief shadow. “You’re quiet.”

“Just… thinking,” he said, letting it go.

After helping her inside, Drey started the car, and Shuga slid into the passenger seat. Her eyes were narrowed, scanning the emptying street. “You’re too calm for someone who just had a person watching them.”

“I didn’t see anyone,” Drey said casually, forcing a shrug.

But a little farther down the road, in an alley just off the main street, the same figure stepped into the faint glow of the streetlamp. He paused, watching Drey’s car as it passed. Calm, deliberate, watching. It was Rowan.

Drey didn’t notice, and Shuga didn’t either.

Inside Isla’s apartment, the warmth enveloped them. Isla perched on the counter, sipping the tea Drey had made, her hair still damp, eyes bright and alert.

“You really make it hard to leave,” Drey said softly, handing her another cup.

Isla reached for his hand, pressing it against her own. “I’ve missed this. Being with you. Even if I don’t understand everything yet, I know this… it feels right.”

Shuga, lounging on the couch with her tablet, pretended to focus on the screen. But her eyes kept flicking between Drey and Isla, noting every small smile, every brush of fingers, every stolen glance. Her chest ached in a way she couldn't admit.

“You’re ridiculously obvious,” she muttered under her breath.

The tablet buzzed. Shuga’s eyes darted to it—a notification from an unknown number: “She’s awake. Be careful. Not everything sees the light.”

Her brow furrowed, but she said nothing. Not yet.

Drey leaned close to Isla, brushing a damp strand of hair from her forehead. “I can’t lose you again. Not like this.”

Isla rested her head against his chest. “I know.”

The phone buzzed again, a different tone this time, but Shuga was the only one who noticed.

Meanwhile, a black SUV idled a few blocks away. A figure stepped from the driver’s seat watching Drey’s car as it disappeared around a corner, Rowan.

He didn’t approach. Not yet but he made a note careful, deliberate. Drey had no idea. The tension of his presence hung invisible over the trio, like a quiet storm brewing on the horizon.

Back inside the apartment, Drey and Isla were lost in each other, laughter and quiet whispers filling the space. Shuga’s fingers hovered over her tablet again, watching, calculating. Something wasn’t right. She could feel it, even if she couldn’t yet explain it.

Drey felt it too, the prickle of observation at the back of his neck, the sense that they were being watched. He ignored it, focusing on Isla’s smile, the warmth of her hand in his.

Outside, Rowan’s figure receded into the shadows, patient, waiting and watching.

And for the first time since Isla returned, Drey felt that old twist of dread, the sense that the happiness in this room was fragile, temporary. That something unseen was threading through the night, just beyond the glow of the streetlights, moving quietly, deliberately.

But tonight… tonight, he held Isla close and let the world fade.

For now.