Chapter 4: Old Habits, New Beginnings

He squeezed her hand gently, letting her know he meant it. The warmth of his touch was all the reassurance she needed.

He had never blamed her.

He looked at her, a faint smile on his lips. "Never."

He just missed her—so very much.

His voice was a whisper, barely audible over the hum of the engine. "I just missed you."

Lauren chatted about all sorts of things, just like years ago. She had always loved to share the little details of life with Evan, and he, just like now, would sit quietly and listen. The rhythm of their conversation was as comforting as a favorite song.

She told him about a funny commercial she’d seen, the weird flavor of coffee at a new café, a stray cat she’d befriended on her walk home. He listened, nodding at all the right moments, comforted by the familiar rhythm of her voice.

Perhaps it was the exhaustion from running around all day, or maybe it was the comfort of being with Evan, but she soon drifted off to sleep without realizing it.

Her head lolled against the window, her breathing evening out. Evan smiled, careful not to wake her as he drove the rest of the way home. He adjusted the air conditioner, making sure she was comfortable.

When she awoke, they had already arrived at the apartment.

The car was parked in the dim lot, and Evan was sitting quietly beside her, waiting. He reached over to gently shake her shoulder. The soft glow of the streetlights cast gentle shadows across his face.

The decor was in shades of black, white, and gray, the room sparsely furnished—simple, efficient, very much like Evan himself. The faint scent of fresh coffee lingered, and the sound of distant traffic seeped in through the windows.

Lauren wandered through the apartment, taking in the minimalist style. She ran her hand along the cool marble countertop, the perfectly organized bookshelf, the spotless kitchen. It was all so Evan—controlled, orderly, yet somehow welcoming.

Lauren stood on the balcony, gazing out, then turned back with a smile: "I thought you’d be living in a penthouse with a view of Central Park, like one of those over-the-top CEOs in movies."

She laughed, picturing him in a velvet robe, swirling brandy in a glass. "Guess I’ve watched too many rom-coms."

"Movies aren’t to be trusted." Evan tucked a stray lock of her hair behind her ear. "Go wash up."

He smiled at her fondly, his touch lingering just a moment too long. The city lights painted gold on her cheeks.

Lauren nodded, but then hesitated.

She glanced down at her rumpled clothes, a sheepish smile on her lips. The air felt sticky from the day’s humidity.

"...But, I don’t have a change of clothes." She’d been running around in the sun all day, and her clothes were sweaty. She wrinkled her nose, clearly uncomfortable. "I can’t exactly borrow your suit, can I?"

Evan looked down at her, moonlight reflected in his eyes, his gaze gentle. He took her hand and led her to the dressing room. The soft carpet muffled their footsteps.

He squeezed her fingers reassuringly, the warmth of his hand grounding her as they walked down the hall. The faint scent of cedar from the closet drifted through the air.

"Want to pick something from your own clothes?"

His words were casual, but there was a note of anticipation in his voice. He watched her, a hopeful smile tugging at his lips.

He didn’t answer directly, but his eyes signaled for her to open the nearby closet.

He nodded toward the closet, a small, secretive smile playing at his lips.

Lauren turned and looked.

She opened the door slowly, curiosity turning to surprise as she took in the sight before her. The faint scent of laundry detergent and old perfume greeted her.

They weren’t Evan’s clothes.

She reached out, fingers brushing the familiar fabric, her breath catching in her throat. The labels—Gap, Levi’s, American Eagle—were all brands she’d loved in high school.

...They were her own clothes and accessories from Maple Heights, along with some new, unopened outfits, all in her size, all perfectly arranged. A pair of Converse sneakers peeked out from the bottom shelf.

The sight made her heart twist. She ran her hand over a favorite old sweater, recognizing the tiny snag near the cuff, and felt a lump rise in her throat. She blinked rapidly, swallowing back tears.

Evan gently embraced her from behind, his heartbeat gradually syncing with hers. His hand brushed her waist, fingertips pointing at the clothes rack. She could feel the warmth of his breath against her neck.

He rested his chin on her shoulder, his voice low and steady. "These are the ones you bought before. I remember you liked every piece."

Lauren turned to look at his profile—his nose straight, lashes long and thick, his expression focused and cool, but with a trace of melancholy in his eyes. The city lights outside cast shifting shadows across his face.

She studied him for a long moment, reading the longing and regret etched in the lines of his face. She reached up, brushing her thumb across his cheek.