His expression is steady. Reassuring.
“I’ve got you,” he says again.
That same promise. That same certainty. I nod, climbing into the seat. He closes the door behind me, then rounds the front of the SUV and gets in on the driver’s side. The engine starts with a low rumble.
For a second, neither of us says anything.
We just sit there. Breathing. Existing in the same space again. Then he glances over at me. “Where do we start?”
I swallow, my heart picking up speed again—not from fear this time, but from something else entirely.
“Home,” I say quietly. “We start at home.”
He nods once. No hesitation.
“Then that’s where we’re going.”
And as the SUV pulls forward, carrying us out into the aftermath of the storm—the roads barely look like roads anymore.
Water still pools in the low spots, debris scattered everywhere—branches, pieces of roofs, things I don’t want to think too hard about. The SUV moves carefully through it all, tires crunching and splashing as Garrison navigates around what he can.
I sit beside him, hands folded tightly in my lap.
We drive past my house. No sign of dad.
“Should we check another shelter?” He asks.
“Sure.” I say uncomfortably.
The silence stretches for a while. Not uncomfortable. Just… heavy. Like there’s too much sitting between us and neither of us knows where to start. He exhales slowly, one hand steady on the wheel.
“You okay?” he asks, glancing over at me.
I nod automatically. “Yeah.”
It’s not a lie. Not entirely. But it’s not the whole truth either.
I stare out the window for a second, watching the world pass by in pieces. “I didn’t know if you were coming,” I admit quietly.
His grip on the wheel tightens just slightly.
“I was always coming,” he says.
Something in my chest pulls tight.
“I didn’t know that,” I whisper.
He’s quiet for a beat.
Then, softer, “I should’ve made sure you did.”
I turn to look at him.
He looks tired. There are shadows under his eyes, tension in his jaw like he hasn’t fully relaxed in… days. Maybe longer.
But he still came. For me.
“I missed you,” I say before I can stop myself.
