Later that evening, Daniel took the wheel for the trip to my place. He handled the car through city streets until we reached the building where I live.
Inside his car, parked under a dim light, we kissed like time had been stolen. Three weeks gone made every breath count. Promises slipped out - small ones, heavy ones - noticing each mistake before. Trying once more felt less like hope, more like gravity pulling us back. Doing it right meant slowing down, maybe listening better.
Up there, we should go," I told her.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah. I want - I need - " I stopped. "I want you to stay tonight."
Out we stepped, after his quiet nod. The door clicked shut behind us.
Halfway up the stairs, we stopped. The jacket dropped right there on the floor.
That kiss by the kitchen counter stopped me cold. The sound of a key turning made everything freeze.
Jayce.
That old key was still his. Back from our time together. Never got around to asking for it.
