Chapter 8 After the Drive
By the time William dropped me off, the sky had already begun to darken.
The soft blues of dusk had faded into deeper shades of indigo, and streetlights flickered on one by one, casting a warm yellow glow over the quiet road. The neighborhood felt calm, almost suspended in time. I stayed seated in the passenger seat longer than necessary, my fingers resting loosely on my bag, my body still warn from the drive, from him, from everything we had shared.
I didn't want to go yet.
"You're smiling," William said, turning toward me.
I blinked, momentarily startled, then laughed softly. "Am I?"
"Yes," he replied easily. "That little smile you get when you're happy and pretending you're not."
"I'm not pretending," I said, looking at his gaze. "I am happy."
He reached for my hand, his thumb brushing gently over my knuckles, slow and deliberate, like he wasn't in any rush to let go. "Good," he said quietly. "That was the goal."
I leaned in and kissed his cheek, lingering just a second longer than polite. "Thank you for the trip."
"For everything?" he asked, voice low.
"For everything," I repeated.
And I meant it.
I had a great time.
"Thank you for letting us do this," he said, and then he kissed my forehead gently, reverently, like it mattered. "Text me when you're inside, my love."
"I will."
"And Olivia?"
"Yes?"
"I meant everything I said earlier."
I looked into his eyes, really looked at the steadiness there, the sincerity that never wavered. "I know, William," I said softly. "I know you do."
I stepped out of the car, closed the door, and watched him drive off before turning toward my building. I didn't move until his car disappeared from view.
The moment I unlocked my door and stepped inside, the quiet wrapped around me.
I dropped my bag by the couch and leaned back against the door, exhaling slowly. My heart felt full too full, like it might spill over if I wasn't careful. The apartment still smelled faintly of lavender from a candle I'd burned before leaving. And somehow the scent made everything feel warmer, gentler.
I walked into my room and sat on the edge of the bed, my shoulders slumping as the adrenaline finally faded.
Everything replayed in fragments
His laugh, his voice, the way he listened when I spoke, the way he looked at me like I mattered. Like I was chosen. I pressed my palm lightly against my chest, trying to calm the flutter there.
My phone buzzed.
William: Inside?
I smiled before I even realized I was doing it.
Me: Yes.
William: Good. I miss you already.
I shook my head, laughing quietly to myself.
Me: You just left.
William: Still counts.
I changed into something comfortable and curled up on the bed, my phone warm in my hands, my thoughts drifting back to the sound of his voice.
Me: I can't stop smiling.
William: I like knowing I did that.
Me: You did more than that.
There was a pause. Long enough to make my chest tighten just a little.
William: Tell me tomorrow.
I smiled again, setting my phone on my chest, letting the silence feel full instead of awkward.
The next morning felt different.
Lighter.
I woke up before my alarm and lay there for a moment, staring at the ceiling. For once, my chest didn't feel tight. My thoughts weren't racing ahead of me, cataloguing worries I couldn't fix.
I reached for my phone.
William: Morning, beautiful. Did you sleep well?
Me: Like a baby.
William: I'm jealous.
Me: You should be. My bed missed me.
William: I miss you.
My heart skipped, just slightly.
Me: We just spent days together.
William: Doesn't mean I can't miss you.
I got ready for work with a quiet smile, humming under my breath as I moved around my apartment. Even the mirror looked kinder that morning, like it was finally reflecting something I felt inside.
At the office, it didn't take long for people to notice.
"You look different," my coworker Nora said as I passed her desk.
"Different how?" I asked.
"Happier," she said simply. "Like something good happened to you."
I shrugged, trying and failing to play it off. "Maybe I just needed a break."
"Well, whatever it was," she said with a knowing smile, "it worked."
During lunch, my phone buzzed again.
William: Did you eat?
I smiled.
Me: I'm about to.
William: Good. Don't skip meals. I'll check later.
I laughed softly, earning a curious look from across the table.
"Boyfriend?" Nora asked.
I hesitated for a heartbeat, then nodded. "Yeah."
She grinned. "I knew it."
That evening, William called while I was cooking.
"Tell me about your day," he said.
"It was… normal," I replied thoughtfully. "But easier. Does that make sense?"
"It does," he said. "Sometimes happiness doesn't need to be loud."
I leaned against the counter, stirring absentmindedly. "You sound like you're trying to impress me."
"Is it working?"
"Yes," I said honestly.
We talked until my food went cold.
The days that followed slipped into something comfortable. Calls in the morning. Messages during the day. Long conversations at night where we talked about nothing and everything. He remembered small things the way I liked my tea, the song I always skipped, the story I told him once and thought he'd forgotten.
One evening, a delivery arrived at my door.
Inside was a small box.
And a note.
Saw this and thought of you.
William
It was a simple bracelet. Nothing flashy. Just delicate. Thoughtful.
I pressed it against my wrist, smiling so hard my cheeks hurt.
I sent him a picture.
Me: You're dangerous.
William: Because?
Me: Because you make it very hard not to fall for you.
There was a pause.
Then:
William: Maybe I don't want you to resist.
I lay back on my bed, staring at the ceiling, my heart beating fast but steady.
For once, love didn't feel confusing.
It didn't feel painful.
It felt warm.
Certain.
And I let myself stay there.