MADISON
I played DJ on our road trip to Santa Cruz. With the windows down, music filled the air, our hair dancing freely. Caden's hair was lustrous, while mine was a mess. Mentally, I sighed, thinking, "So help me, God."
Santa Cruz was just a forty-minute drive thanks to Caden's powerful car.
Every now and then, Caden flashed me a nurturing look over his sunglasses or held my hand when his phone wasn't demanding his attention.
"Why are we here?" I asked as we pulled over on a shopping street.
Caden simply smiled and extended his hand when we both stepped out of the car.
Suspicion crept in, but I let him intertwine our hands as he guided us through the bustling promenade. It was a sweet gesture, one I found myself needing more and more these days.
The mall was filled with people goin
