"Because I'm capable and it's heavy," I say instead.
She bites her lip, fighting a smile. "Okay. Thank you."
"You need anything else before we go?"
"No, I'm good. I just need to lock up."
I wait while she checks windows, turns down the heat, grabs her coat. She's meticulous, careful, and I catalog these details like I used to catalog intel. Learning her. Understanding her patterns.
Outside, I load her bag in the truck bed while she locks the door. When I open the passenger door for her, she pauses.
"You don't have to do that either," she says softly.
"Do what?"
"Open doors for me. I'm perfectly capable—"
"I know you are." I hold her gaze. "Let me do it anyway."
Something flickers in her eyes, surprise, maybe, or pleasure. She nods and climbs in, and I close the door behind her, taking a moment to breathe before walking around to the driver's side.
I slide into the driver's seat and start the engine. The cab fills with warmth, and Iris is close enough that I can smell that vanilla scent again. It's intoxicating.
"How was your week?" I ask as I pull onto the street.
"Busy. First-graders are wild after a weekend, especially when they know their teacher is distracted." She glances at me. "How was yours?"
"Long."
"Long because of work?"
I keep my eyes on the road as we leave town behind, the lights fading into darkness and snow. "Long because I kept thinking about today."
I feel her turn to look at me. "Oh."
"That okay?" I ask.
"Yeah," she says quietly. "That's... that's okay."
We drive in silence for a while, the only sound the hum of the engine and the crunch of snow under the tires. It's not uncomfortable, though. It's the kind of quiet that feels full rather than empty.
"Can I ask you something?" Iris says eventually.
"Anything."
"Why did you come to Lovesbury? Jonah mentioned you're not from here."
I consider how much to tell her. How much truth to lay bare this early. But she deserves honesty.
"I needed to disappear for a while," I say. "After my discharge, after everything... I didn't know who I was anymore. The military was my whole life. Without it, I was just..." I trail off.
"Lost," she finishes quietly.
"Yeah. Lost." The word feels too small for what I actually felt, but it's close enough. "Jonah's been my best friend since we were kids. When I called him, told him I needed a place to get my head straight, he didn't ask questions. Just said come to Lovesbury, stay as long as I need."
"That's a good friend."
"The best." I navigate a turn, the headlights cutting through the darkness. "What about you? Lived here your whole life?"
