Chapter 3 - Wren

WREN

The drive was quiet, not awkward-quiet, just really fucking quiet.

I cracked my window a bit, which honestly helped calm me down a bit.

We still didn’t talk much. A couple of comments here and there, a small laugh when Reed got lost in a neighborhood he should’ve known.

But mostly, it was silent. For once, the silence didn’t feel like loneliness.

He didn’t ask questions, and I didn’t offer explanations. It was honestly kind of perfect.

When he pulled up in front of my house, the porch light was still on. My chest tightened. Not because I didn’t want to be home, but because being home meant stepping back into everything I was trying not to remember.

Reed didn’t turn off the engine. Just shifted the car into park and leaned back a little, his left hand on the steering wheel, the other resting on his thigh. He glanced at the dashboard clock reading twelve fifty-two a.m., then back at me.

“You want me to walk you up?” he asked, a sweet, soft smirk playing at his mouth.

I smiled, but it didn’t quite reach my eyes. “I’ll be fine.”

His eyes lingered on me a second too long, like he was still waiting to make sure I wasn’t going to unravel the second I stepped out of the car. I hated how he could see that so easily. But at the same time, I was grateful. Really grateful.

“Thanks for the drive,” I said, my fingers curling around the door handle.

“You sure you’re good?” he questioned, not pushing but just checking.

I shook my head. “No,” I smiled my biggest smile and said, “but I’ll fake it.”

That earned a low exhale from him, almost a laugh.

His gaze flicked to the house, then back to me. “If you ever need to take a drive,” he said with a smile, “you know where to find me and how to reach me.’”

I looked at him, and for once, I didn’t make a joke. I didn’t deflect. I just whispered, “Okay.”

I opened the door, hopping out of his truck into the chill of the night. The outdoor garage light buzzed above me like it was annoyed I was back so late. Before I closed the door, I paused, just for a second.

“Hey, Reed?” I said softly.

He looked over to where I stood, hand still on the wheel. “Yeah?”

“Thanks for not asking.”

He shrugged. “Anytime.”

I shut the car door behind me.

The truck sat there for a moment longer. Reed waited for me to unlock the door before pulling away quietly, taillights fading into the night. He left me feeling like maybe I didn’t have to carry all of this alone.

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