The car was too quiet.
Brinley stared out the passenger window, watching streetlights blur past like things she used to understand but didn't anymore. Her arms were folded tight across her chest, not cold , guarded.
Jaxson drove with both hands clenched on the wheel. Every red light felt like a judgment. Every mile closer to home felt undeserved."I didn't plan to scare you," he said finally.
She didn't look at him. "But you did."
The truth didn't need yelling.
"I thought leaving would hurt less than staying," she added. "Turns out, I was wrong."
His throat tightened. "I never wanted you to feel disposable" She turned then, eyes sharp but tired. "But that's how it felt. Like you could love me… just not enough to fight for me."
He didn't answer, because anything he said would be fear dressed up as reason.
The car rolled on.
They arrived home without touching, without resolving anything, Just two people carrying the same ache in different ways.