“No.”
“Do not be a fool,” he said sharply. “I will drop you back at the bakery.”
I paused for a moment, weighing my pride against my exhaustion. Standing on the side of the road arguing felt childish, and I was too drained to care.
“Fine.”
I got into the car, but if he expected conversation, he was mistaken. Whatever energy I had left was gone. I leaned back in the seat and let the silence stretch between us.
Ashton drove steadily, the car gliding along the familiar curves of the road. Tall trees lined both sides, their branches forming a quiet canopy overhead, while glimpses of the lake shimmered through the gaps. A soft melancholy settled over me. This place had once felt like home. Now it felt like a memory that no longer belonged to me.
I closed my eyes and let the breeze brush against my face, carrying the scent of the forest. It grounded me, as though the world had slowed just enough for me to breathe. I sensed Ashtonglancing at me from time to time, subtle but deliberate. Each look lingered longer than necessary.
Then my phone buzzed against my lap.
I glanced down and my chest tightened. Sissy was calling. My thoughts leaped instantly to one person.
Tristan.
I answered without hesitation.
“Hi, Mom!” Tristan’s cheerful voice filled the car.
“Hi, sweetheart,” I said softly. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I just miss you, that’s all.”
My fingers curled tighter around the phone. “Oh, baby. I miss you so much too.”
“So when are you coming back?” he asked.
The question caught me off guard. I remembered where I was. Who I was with. I lowered my voice instinctively and turned slightly toward the window.
“I will be back soon,” I promised. “Can I call you again in fifteen minutes?”
“Okay.”
“I love you.”
“I love you too, Mom.”
I ended the call quickly and placed the phone face down on my lap. My heartbeat thundered in my ears. The car suddenly felt smaller, heavier. I stared straight ahead, silently hoping Ashtonhad not heard enough to start asking questions I could not answer.
The road stretched on in silence.
Ashton’s jaw tightened. His hands gripped the steering wheel harder than before.
“Boyfriend?” he asked.
The word sounded casual, but the tension beneath it betrayed him.
“What?” I turned toward him, sharper than I intended.
“The one who called,” he said, eyes flicking briefly to me before returning to the road. “Sounded important.”
I forced my expression to remain calm. “It is not your concern.”
His lips pressed into a thin line.
