The silence around us is thick after Micah’s call. Alec’s hand is still tight around his phone, knuckles white, but his eyes are distant, flicking between me and the road as though part of him is here, with me, and the other part has already left.
He looks torn, caught between duty and me. I know the feeling, and I know Micah wouldn’t have called if it weren’t something important.
I squeeze his hand. “We should go,” I tell him softly.
He shakes his head, lips pressed into a hard line. “We could stay. Just a little longer. Whatever it is, Micah can handle it until I—”
“Alec,” I interrupt gently. “If Micah called, it’s important. You know he wouldn’t have reached out otherwise. You can always make it up to me later.”
His jaw works, tension pulsing along his temple, but then he exhales s
