~Fallon~
The car ride back was quiet.
Not awkward or uncertain. Just quiet in that sacred, weightless way silence becomes when it holds more than words ever could.
He held my hand the whole way. His thumb kept brushing the back of mine like a silent apology. Like he couldn’t quite believe I was still here, sitting beside him.
Neither could I.
When the mansion came into view, it felt surreal. Like a place I’d once dreamed of. Or escaped from. Or both.
The lights were mostly out, except for the soft, amber glow from the sconces lining the hallway. Everything was hushed. The kind of quiet that only comes when the world is holding its breath.
We didn’t speak as we stepped inside. The door clicked shut behind us, and my heartbeat suddenly filled the space like thunder.
I didn’t let go of his hand.
Not when we walked past the sitting room.
Not when we climbed the grand staircase.
Not even when we reached the double doors of the master bedroom—the room I hadn’t entered in months.
I stopped.
