When he turns up the radio for a song he likes, singing along with more enthusiasm than skill, I can't help laughing. He grins at me, completely unembarrassed, and reaches for my hand.
"What?" he asks, kissing my knuckles without taking his eyes off the road.
"Nothing," I say, still smiling. "I just like seeing you like this. Relaxed. Happy."
His expression softens. "I am happy. Happier than I've been in a long time."
The simple admission hangs between us, neither of us quite ready to examine what it means. Instead, I rest my head against his shoulder, watching the mountains roll by as we wind our way back toward home.
As the familiar outline of Virginia Dale appears in the distance, I feel the real world rushing back in—responsibilities, worries, the constant vigilance that defines my life. I sit up straighter, already mentally preparing for the transition.
Axel notices, his hand tightening slightly on mine. "Hey," he says softly. "You okay?"
"Yeah." I nod, trying to mean it. "Just… switching gears."
His thumb brushes over my wrist. "Last night doesn't have to be just a onetime thing, you know. The getting away part, I mean. We could do it again."
I feel myself smile.
"I'd like that."
He smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners. "Good."
As we turn into the Pike's Perk parking lot, the café's familiar outline dark against the night sky, I feel myself caught between two worlds: the safe, controlled life I've built and the exhilarating unknown that Axel represents.
The parking lot is unusually dark, just one flickering light illuminating the spaces. As we pull in, my breath catches in my throat. There's another vehicle, a sleek black sedan I don't recognize, parked near the stairs to my apartment. A man leans against it, arms crossed over his chest, waiting.
I recognize his silhouette instantly, even in the dim light. My body reacts before my brain can catch up, pulse slamming hard in my throat, palms suddenly slick with sweat, breath going shallow.
"No," I whisper, the word barely audible. "No, no, no."
Axel looks at me, then follows my gaze to the figure. "Sadie? Who is that?"
I can't speak. Can't move. Can't breathe.
Elliot pushes himself off the car, taking a step toward us, his face coming into the weak light. He looks exactly the same—tall, lean, expensively dressed, that carefully styled dark hair. The father of my child. The man I ran from.
"Wait here," Axel says, his voice suddenly hard. He's out of the truck before I can stop him, moving with purpose toward Elliot.
I fumble with my seat belt, panic making my fingers clumsy. I have to get to them. Have to stop whatever's about to happen. But my body feels disconnected, moving through molasses.
"You must be the boyfriend," I hear Elliot say, his voice carrying that familiar condescending tone that always made me feel small. "I was hoping to speak with Sadie privately."
"Not happening," Axel replies, positioning himself between Elliot and the truck. "How did you find her?"
Elliot's laugh is cold. "She's my wife. Finding her wasn't difficult."
The word hits me sharp and cold. Wife.
The legal technicality I've been running from, the marriage I thought was dissolved when I fled Oregon.
I finally manage to get out of the truck, my legs trembling as I approach them. Axel glances back at me, his expression a mix of concern and something else. Betrayal?
"Sadie," Elliot says, his smile not reaching his eyes. "You're looking well. Better than I expected after abandoning your responsibilities."
"What are you doing here?" I manage, my voice steadier than I feel.
"Didn't you get my note?" He raises an eyebrow. "I left it for you. A courtesy, really. I could have just shown up in court."
