By the time I arrived home, I saw Eric’s car already parked along the curb.

So, he’d been closer than I thought.

His headlights were off, but I could see him sitting inside, illuminated by the faint glow of the dashboard. His silhouette was still, as if he’d been waiting there for a while.

The taxi idled beside the curb.

I took a slow breath before thanking and tipping the driver.

The moment the car pulled away, the rain swallowed me again.

Cold droplets soaked through my clothes instantly.

I clutched my heels in one hand and limped toward my front steps, hoping to make it inside before Eric noticed the state I was in.

No such luck.

His car door opened almost immediately.

“S-Sel?”

He hurried toward me, his suit jacket already darkening under the rain.

“What happened to you?” His voice rose with concern. “Why are you bandaged? And you’re completely soaked—come on, let’s get inside before you get sick.”

He reached for my arm. 

I stepped back.

“I can walk by myself.”

The words came out sharper than I intended.

I started up the path slowly, favoring one leg.

Eric’s hand lingered awkwardly in the air before lowering.

Instead of arguing, he removed his suit jacket and held it over my head as we walked the rest of the way to the door.

The gesture irritated me more than it should have.

Because part of me wanted to accept it.

My fingers fumbled through my purse for the keys. They slipped twice before I pushed one into the lock.

The door creaked open.

At least the house was clean.

One small mercy tonight.

I stepped inside and set my heels by the entrance.

From the closet, I grabbed a pair of house slippers and handed them to Eric.

“If you don’t mind,” I said, avoiding his eyes, “I’m going to change and dry my hair.”

He nodded immediately.

“Of course. Take your time.”

I led him into the living room and turned on the television before moving toward the kitchen.

“Anything I can get you before I go?”

“No, really,” he said gently. “Go change first. I’ll be fine.”

In my bedroom, I peeled the damp clothes from my skin.

Thankfully, the paramedics had wrapped the bandages well; they were still dry.

I dried my hair quickly and tied it into a messy bun before pulling on a pair of loose sweatpants and an oversized shirt.

Comfortable.

Safe.

Very different from the outfit I’d carefully chosen earlier.

By the time I returned, Eric had gotten up from the couch.

He followed me into the kitchen like a nervous shadow.

I opened my small liquor cabinet.

“All I have is cheap wine,” I said.

“That’s perfect.”

He took the bottle from me and popped the cork.

While he poured, I pulled out my phone and checked if my favorite pizza place was still open.

“What kind of pizza do you like?”

“I’m not picky.”

“Pepperoni it is.”

I placed an order for one large pizza.

Eric immediately reached for his phone.

“How much was it? I’ll send you the money.”

I pushed his hand down gently.

“You bought breakfast last time. This one’s on me.”

A pause.

“I don’t like owing people.”

My tone came out colder than I had meant.

But after today, I didn’t feel apologetic.

We sat on the couch with our wine.

Some random movie played on the television, though neither of us seemed to pay attention.

The silence stretched between us.

I finished my glass faster than intended.

A quiet chuckle came from beside me.

I looked over.

Eric was watching me with a small smile.

“I thought you were a lightweight.”

“I had a rough day,” I said flatly.

He raised an eyebrow.

“I had to tackle a little girl out of traffic,” I continued, taking another sip. “Then I got stood up by my date.”

His smile disappeared immediately.

Guilt filled his expression.

“Sel… I’m so sorry.”

He leaned forward, elbows resting on his knees.

“When I texted, saying I’d be late, I honestly thought it would only be thirty minutes.”

His voice softened.

“But my sister showed up at my house having a panic attack.”

He exhaled slowly.

“She said our dad did something to her.”

A long silence followed.

“As awful as she can be…” he added quietly, “she’s still my little sister.”

His eyes lifted toward me.

“You remember what he was like… don’t you?”

They were distant memories, but I couldn’t forget the fear his father etched into my heart the first day I met him.

----------------------------------------------------

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Art: Petra Eggert