It was only four days.
That's what Mrs. Callahan kept saying.
"Four days. We'll be back before you miss us."
Mr. Callahan was flying to Chicago for a business conference. Mrs. Callahan was joining him for the first half before visiting her sister.
It wasn't unusual.
But it had never happened while Nora had a boyfriend.
And that made it feel different.
Mr. Callahan stood in the kitchen before they left, keys in hand.
"Rules haven't changed just because you're seniors," he said evenly.
Eli nodded.
Nora nodded.
"No parties," Mrs. Callahan added lightly.
"No burning the house down," Mr. Callahan finished.
Eli almost smirked.
Almost.
They hugged them both.
Nora held her father a second longer than usual.
Not because she was nervous.
Because something in the air felt fragile.
Then the door closed.
And the house shifted.
The first hour was normal.
Too normal.
Eli turned on a game in the living room. Nora finished an article draft at the kitchen table.
They existed in their usual orbit.
Familiar. Comfortable.
But the silence had weight now.
There was no one upstairs. No one moving around. No subtle parental presence.
Just them.
"Liam coming over?" Eli asked casually that evening.
He didn't look at her when he said it.
She hesitated.
"He asked."
"And?"
"I said maybe."
That answer did something to him.
Not because she said yes.
Because she didn't.
He glanced at her then.
"You don't have to decide based on me."
She frowned slightly. "I'm not."
It was half true.
She didn't invite Liam over.
Not the first night.
She told herself it was because it felt disrespectful.
But deeper down—
she didn't want to test something she didn't fully understand yet.
That night they ordered takeout.
A habit from years ago.
They ate on the couch.
Shoulders brushing.
Too aware.
At one point she laughed at something he said and instinctively leaned into him.
Not romantic.
Automatic.
But neither of them pulled away immediately.
And that delay mattered.
On the second night, it rained.
Heavy.
The kind that makes the house feel smaller.
Power flickered once.
Nora froze slightly at the sound.
Old reflex.
Eli noticed.
He stood, grabbed a flashlight from the drawer without a word.
Set it on the coffee table.
"You're fine," he said quietly.
It wasn't patronizing.
It was grounding.
She nodded.
But she didn't move away from him.
The thunder cracked again.
Closer.
And suddenly she was sixteen again. New in the house. Trying not to cry.
He saw it in her face.
Without thinking—
he reached for her hand.
Not dramatic. Not possessive.
Just steady.
She didn't pull away.
The contact was warm. Familiar. Dangerous.
The storm filled the silence around them.
Her fingers tightened slightly.
"Eli," she said softly.
It wasn't a warning.
It wasn't a question.
It was something in between.
He should have let go.
He didn't.
Instead, he looked at her.
Really looked.
And for the first time in years—
there were no parents in the house. No boyfriend in the room. No audience.
Just truth sitting between them.
"You don't have to pretend you're not scared of storms," he said quietly.
That wasn't what she meant.
But it was safer.
So she nodded.
Later that night, after the rain stopped, she stood outside his bedroom door.
She wasn't sure why.
Maybe because the house felt too big. Maybe because everything felt too close.
She knocked lightly.
"Yeah?"
She opened the door a crack.
"Can we just… talk?"
He swallowed.
"Yeah."
She sat on the edge of his bed.
Too close. Not close enough.
And the silence stretched again.
Four days.
That's all it was.