Chapter 66: Why Do I Even Care?
I didn’t say a word as we left the sidewalk. My hand rested at the small of her back—not in a possessive way, not really, more... steady. Grounding. Like maybe if I didn’t do that she would fall over.
She didn’t say anything either, but I could feel the tension radiating off her body like she was on fire. Her silence wasn’t calm—it throbbed, loud and brittle, like something barely holding together.
The car door unlocked with a soft chime. She climbed in quickly, sinking into the leather seat like she wanted to disappear.
I walked around and slid in beside her. The scent of clean linen filled the space, but her perfume was buried beneath it—floral, soft, and mixed with vanilla. Something suggestive of regret? Anger? I couldn’t tell.
I turned on the engine and started the car.
Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her hands fumbling with the seatbelt. They were trembling. Badly.
Damn I noticed.
Of course I noticed.
I noticed everything about her.
She was still shewing on her bottom lip like she was trying to swallow something bitter—like a memory was stuck between her teeth. I am sure it’s a result of incident that just happened. How dare he make my employee disturebed.
Her hands were shaking violently now as she fumbled with the buckle, the small plastic clasp suddenly a complex puzzle. She wasn’t just chewing her lip anymore; she was worrying it, biting down hard enough I worried she’d draw blood.