In a real way.
The kind that makes you think about futures even when you’re not trying to.
I stare at the dark window, the faint reflection of us in the glass. Me sitting too still. Her asleep against me. The living room lamp throwing warm light over her face. A picture on the wall of Sadie at the county fair, missing two front teeth and holding a ribbon as if she won the whole world.
My mind drifts, traitorous.
How would it look if we stopped pretending this is temporary?
If Boone stopped bracing for impact every second he’s awake. If Silas stopped trying to charm pain into submission. If Delaney stopped holding herself, thinking she’s one wrong step from being punished for existing.
If we… chose it. Really chose it.
I’m halfway into that thought when her phone lights up.
A soft buzz against the couch cushion. The screen flashes bright in the dim room.
I look away automatically. It’s none of my business.
Then it buzzes again.
And again.
I keep my hand in her hair. Keep my eyes on the window. Keep pretending I don’t hear the faint vibration that feels too urgent to be nothing.
But the screen is bright. The text preview is big enough that my brain catches it before I can stop it.
I’ve been thinking about you all evening.
My stomach tightens.
Another buzz.
I wish today had gone differently.
My hand stills in her hair for half a second before I force it to move again, pretending I didn’t just feel ice cold slide under my ribs.
I tell myself it could be anyone. An old friend. A misunderstanding.
But then another message flashes.
We should talk tomorrow. Somewhere quieter.
That one lands wrong.
Not professional. Not casual. Not neutral.
It feels intimate.
I swallow, throat suddenly tight.
Delaney doesn’t stir. She sleeps on, breathing warm against my shirt because the world didn’t just tilt for her.
I don’t touch her phone. I don’t pick it up. I don’t try to read more.
But I can’t pretend I didn’t see what I saw.
My mind tries to make it make sense and fails.
