Chapter 4: Rides, Regrets, and Unspoken Words

"Team Lead Delaney, you look like you want to say something."

Her voice was gentle, almost teasing. It threw me for a loop.

I looked up at her, catching our reflections in the elevator doors. Clearly, she’d seen right through my hesitation.

I gave an awkward laugh. “No, nothing.”

The words sounded lame even to my own ears. I fiddled with my keycard, wishing the ride would end.

I thought I’d grown up a lot since graduation, but faced with her, I was still just as timid as back then.

We parted in silence. As she left, I saw her calling a ride on an app. But at this hour, there were a lot of people hailing rides—who knew how long she’d have to wait?

She stood under the flickering streetlight, scrolling through her phone. I watched from the parking lot, torn between leaving and turning back. In the end, guilt won out.

Maybe I owed her. After driving a few blocks, I circled back.

I rolled down the window, trying to sound casual. “Need a lift?”

"Team Lead Delaney? What are you doing here?" she asked.

She raised an eyebrow, but there was a hint of relief in her eyes.

I braced myself. “It’s hard to get a ride this late. Let me drive you.”

She seemed to smile a little, but in the end, she got into my passenger seat. She told me the name of a hotel, and I entered the address in the GPS. “Haven’t found a place yet?”

She leaned back, looking tired. “Just got back, haven’t had time. I’ll look this weekend.”

Her voice was softer, almost vulnerable. I wanted to offer her my spare room, but the words stuck in my throat.

There was a spare room at my place, but I didn’t dare offer.

I gripped the steering wheel, forcing myself to focus on the road. The city lights blurred past. For a moment, it felt like we were back in college, driving home after a late-night study session. Everything outside the windows was just a smear of color and light.

We didn’t talk again. The car grew quiet. After a while, I glanced over and saw she’d fallen asleep.

Her head lolled against the window, hair falling into her eyes. I slowed down, not wanting to wake her. The silence was oddly comforting, like we were suspended in time.

It felt surreal. Over the years, I’d imagined all kinds of reunion scenarios, but none as calm as this. So calm it was as if all those tangled years in college had never happened.

I half expected her to wake up and laugh, to ask if I’d forgiven her. But she just slept, and I drove, feeling strangely at peace.

I wanted to shake her awake. Ask her why she came back. Why she was pretending not to know me. But all I did was focus on the road, driving slow and steady.

Slow or not, we still got there. She got out and thanked me. I nodded and drove away without another word.

She closed the door quietly, giving me a small smile. I watched her walk into the lobby, wondering if she’d look back. She didn’t.

I figured I’d be up all night, but I actually slept better than I had in months.

For the first time in months, I didn’t wake up at 3 a.m. replaying old memories. I dreamed of nothing at all.