Two hundred and forty eight

~Reid~

It had been months.

Months since I heard her voice.

Since I saw her walk out of that mansion with her suitcase and her silence.

Since she stood on the steps with tears in her eyes and I said nothing. Did nothing.

And now, here I was again.

Back in her city.

Back in the place I promised myself I’d never return to unless I was ready to mean every word I’d never said.

The black SUV cut through the late afternoon light like a whisper. Everything looked the same and completely different at once. Street signs. Coffee shops. Rows of townhomes with vines growing up their sides. A woman jogged by with headphones in. A teenager sat on a stoop blowing gum bubbles.

The world had kept turning.

Even when mine had stopped.

I sat rigid in the back seat, fingers pressed into my thighs, knuckles white. The silence in the car was loud—too loud. My thoughts filled the space where music should have been.

She’s here.

She might open the door.

She might not.

My hands were sweating. My jaw ached from h