The explanation should have been enough, but I kept finding small things that didn't quite fit.
He still listened when I spoke, still smiled at the right moments, still reached over once to adjust the air conditioning when I mentioned I was getting too warm.
Nothing about him was distant in any obvious way. Even so, there was a restraint to him that hadn't been there before. It was as if he was thinking a little more carefully about every interaction.
We could have stayed longer in town. There had been enough time to find somewhere for lunch before heading back, and when I asked if he wanted to leave early instead, he'd agreed almost immediately.
At the time, I told myself it made sense. We both had work tomorrow, and there was no real reason to linger.
Now, watching familiar roads slip past the window as we crossed back into Pecan Pines, I wasn't quite as convinced.
The thought came and went before I could look at it too closely.
If something was bothering him, he would tell me. Wouldn't he?
I could have asked him too. Instead, I turned my attention back to the road ahead and let the question sit where it was.
Before I could fully register that we had arrived outside my apartment building, Dane had already unbuckled his seatbelt.
“I’ll grab your bags.”
“Okay.”
He was out of the car before I finished saying it.
I stayed where I was for a moment, staring through the windshield at the familiar brick building ahead of us. I should have felt relieved to be back home.
With a sigh, I pushed open the door and climbed out.
Dane was already unloading the trunk. By the time I reached him, he had stacked most of my bags neatly beside the entrance.
“Got everything?” I asked.
“Almost.”
He lifted out the last duffel and set it down with the others. My gaze drifted automatically toward the open car door.
I frowned. The garment bags were supposed to be with the rest of my things. Instead, they still hung in the back seat, and for some reason, that detail lingered in my mind longer than it should have.
Dane closed the trunk and straightened. “There you go.”
“Thanks.”
I pulled my keys from my pocket and turned them absently between my fingers. Neither of us moved.
It became uncomfortably clear that the trip had ended. That should have been it: a simple conclusion, something clean and easy to step away from.
Yet, I found myself glancing at my door, then back at him.
I should ask him to come up.
The thought surfaced easily enough. He had spent the entire weekend with me, helping me navigate something I had been quietly dreading for years.
My grip tightened slightly around the keys. The invitation should have come naturally, but instead the words stayed lodged somewhere in my throat.
He nodded toward his car. “I should probably get going.”
“Oh,” I said, before I could stop myself.
