Alex laughs. “Jamie’s terrifying.”
“She’s also right,” I mutter.
Derek’s gaze sharpens. “About what?”
I hesitate.
Because this is the moment where I say something messy. Something human.
“About… me not wanting to feel like this was my fault,” I admit quietly.
The air shifts.
Alex's humor falls away. Mark's grin fades into something serious. Derek doesn’t move, but his eyes darken with something that looks like anger aimed at someone else.
“It wasn’t,” Derek says, voice low and certain. “Not even a little.”
I nod once, swallowing hard.
I didn't even notice Alex disappeared until he handed me my purse. "Thank you. My dress?" I cringe.
He does the sign of the cross. "May it rest in peace."
I really liked that dress. But after last night, I probably wouldn't have worn it again anyway.
“Okay,” Alex says after a beat, clapping his hands again like he’s saving us from the heaviness. “We’re doing a handoff. Pierce, you take Audra home. Mark and I will go hunt down the snack aisle and buy every box of real cereal to cleanse this house of flax.”
Derek’s eyes narrow. “Touch my cabinets and die.”
Alex beams. “Love to.”
Mark points at me. “Text us when you’re home, okay?”
I nod. “I will.”
“And if you get dizzy again—” Alex starts.
“I’ll sit,” I finish, because I’m learning.
Derek grabs his keys, phone, and a jacket. He moves with practiced efficiency, like if he stays busy he doesn’t have to feel anything.
I’m not sure that strategy is working.
At the front door, Derek pauses and looks back at Mark and Alex. “Don’t do anything stupid.”
Mark salutes. “No promises.”
Alex adds, “We’re going to be so stupid.”
Derek’s mouth twitches like he wants to smile and refuses.
Then the door closes behind us, and suddenly it’s just me and him.
The quiet shifts again. More intimate. More dangerous.
The walk to his car feels too short.
He opens the passenger door for me like a gentleman, and that—of all things—makes my throat tighten. Because it’s thoughtful in a way that doesn’t ask for anything back.
