“I didn’t think about the fact that I would need my key to get back in.”
“You left without it?”
I rolled my eyes. “I left under medical supervision.”
“That does not negate doors and locks.”
I stared at the building. “I have contingency plans.”
“I assumed you did. Where’s the spare?” he asked.
“Bush. Downspout. Loose stone. Don’t judge me.”
“I’m not judging you.”
“You are absolutely judging me internally.”
“I’m cataloging the safety risks.”
“That’s worse.”
I walked around the side of the building and crouched carefully, not putting too much weight on my ankle, and retrieved the hide-a-key with more dignity than the situation deserved.
He stayed near the sidewalk, scanning the area. I’d noticed that little habit of his as well.
I stood and held up the key triumphantly. “I’m an adult.”
“You are,” he said.
On the inside I wasn’t quite as composed.
It wasn’t just that I forgot the key. That wasn’t the part that bothered me. The part that bothered me was that I had not once run through my usual exit checklist before leaving this morning. Phone. Wallet. Keys. Backup plan. Secondary backup plan. I had not mentally mapped contingencies. I had not rehearsed my return.
Because he was driving.
Because he was there.
Somewhere between the hospital and apartment setup and the bar fiasco, my brain had quietly stepped off duty.
And I had let it.
I didn’t like that.
I didn’t like that my nervous system softened around him, or that the constant low-grade vigilance I carried like a second spine eased when he was within reach. I definitely didn’t like that I stopped scanning for problems because he was already doing it.
I had spent most of my life being the responsible one. The emergency contact. The person with the contingency plan. The person who kept track of where the keys were.
And now I had to use my spare key because I had unconsciously assumed he would handle whatever came next.
That was not cute. It wasdangerous.
Connection is not a safety plan, I reminded myself. People left. People disappointed you. Worst of all, people expected things in return.
I straightened, annoyed at myself.I do not outsource competence.Even if he makes it very easy to.
Markie screamed the moment the door opened. “DOG. HEEL.”
Liam paused mid-step.
