Grace stared straight ahead, jaw tight.
She ignored him.
And he walked with her anyway.
The school came into view,threaded with the distant shriek of laughter and the scrape of sneakers on pavement. Kids clustered near the entrance, backpacks bouncing, parents calling reminders, the familiar morning chaos unfolding like it always did.
Luke hadn’t said a word for the last block, just walked beside her like a shadow she hadn’t asked for and couldn’t shake. Protective without touching. Present without overstepping.
Grace stopped at the curb. “This is far enough.”
Luke stopped too.
“I’m walking you to the door,” he said.
“No,” she replied immediately. “You’re not.”
There was a pause. His gaze slid past her—she watched him assess the street, entrance, the cluster of parents near the curb. A muscle in his jaw worked once before he nodded. “Okay.”
She glanced at him, suspicious.
“I’ll see you this afternoon,” he said.
Grace frowned. “What?”
“To walk you home,” he said.
“No,” she said again, sharper this time. “Absolutely not.”
He crossed his arms. “Grace?—”
“What aboutmyreputation?” she asked. “You already did enough damage showing up here the other day.”
Regret flickered across his face. “I’m sorry about that. I am. But you can’t walk home alone.”
“I don’t need you to protect me,” she said.
He studied her for a long moment, eyes steady, voice lower when he spoke again. “Someone waited for you outside your house.”
She blinked hard. “I can take care of myself. I’ve been doing it my whole life.”
“I know,” he said. “But you shouldn’t have to.”
Grace swallowed and looked away, focusing on the yellow paint of the crosswalk, the flutter of a paper leaf taped crookedly to the front window.
“Why are you doing this?” she asked quietly. “Why do you care?”
Luke flinched like her words had caused him physical pain. But Grace hadn’t meant them to hurt.
Silence stretched between them, taut and vibrating.
“I’ll be here when school lets out. You don’t have to talk to me. You don’t have to acknowledge me. But I’m not leaving you to walk home alone today.”
Grace felt the familiar pull—the urge to argue, to push, to reassert ground she’d fought hard to claim.
And beneath it, the unwanted truth: She wanted to feel safe. She wanted the guard at her back. And worst of all, she wanted that guardian to behim.
“We’re over,” she said, reminding herself as much as him.
