Chapter 2
Tyler shifted his weight by the open door and cleared his throat. The sound cut through the air between Eli and me.
"I'm gonna step out," he said. His hands stayed in his pockets. He didn't look at either of us for long. "Give you two a minute."
He slipped past the black duffel bag without touching it and stepped onto the porch. The screen door eased shut behind him with a soft click, but the front door stayed wide open. Daylight still poured across the hardwood and the dark SUV stayed parked in the driveway where it had been. Tyler's shadow fell across the boards outside. He didn't go far. I could see the edge of his shoulder through the doorway, turned away from us, waiting.
The foyer felt smaller without him in it.
Eli's eyes dropped to the side table. The keys to the spare car sat there next to the lamp and the vase, right where I'd left them after I wiped the counter that morning. He didn't grab them right away. He slid his left hand into his pocket, the one with the silver wristwatch, and let out a breath through his nose.
"You promised him the car," he said. His voice was low, not loud anymore. "Did you check if I needed it first?"
I swallowed. My cardigan had slipped off one shoulder and I pulled it back up.
"I thought you wouldn't," I said. "You said you had the weekend off."
"I have half of it off," he said. He finally reached for the keys. He didn't put them in his jacket, he just held them, thumb pressed against the metal. "I picked up Saturday coverage for Daniels. Four to midnight. Warehouse shift. My truck's in the shop till Tuesday, waiting on the brake line. I told you that Wednesday."
I remembered him saying something about the brakes while I was half-asleep, scrolling on my phone.
"And Sunday," he went on, "I have to take my mom to her appointment in the county. Nine a.m. Her ride canceled. I told her I'd use the spare."
The keys clicked faintly as his hand tightened. He slipped them into the pocket of his dark jeans.
That was the moment my stomach dropped. I'd sent Jason the text Friday night without thinking beyond being nice. His truck broke down, he needed wheels for a weekend job, and I remembered how he'd loaned me his car for a week three years ago when mine died before Eli and I even started dating. I wanted to return the favor. I assumed Eli could survive without it for two days because I needed that to be true. I hadn't asked. I hadn't wanted to have a fight.
"I didn't realize," I said. My voice sounded smaller than I wanted it to. "I assumed you'd be home."
Eli looked at me, steady, not cruel. "You assumed I had no plans so your promise could stand."
The duffel bag sat by the base of the staircase, undisturbed, black against the hardwood. It had been there since Tyler brought it in, and neither of us had mentioned it.
The open door let in a gust of cool air. Outside, Tyler coughed and shifted again. I could hear a car pass on our street.
I pulled my phone from the back pocket of my jeans. My thumb hovered over the screen. Jason's name was at the top of my messages, Friday's thread still open. I already promised him the car for the weekend. That line I'd said out loud ten minutes ago was still hanging in the room.
I wanted to fix it without really fixing it. I didn't want to call Jason and hear his voice and tell him no directly. I typed and deleted twice.
Eli watched me but didn't tell me what to write.
Finally I typed: we need to talk before you come and hit send. Not a cancellation, not a yes. A delay. My hands were damp.
"Sent him we need to talk," I told Eli. It came out as half an apology, half a defense.
He nodded once. His hand stayed in his pocket over the keys. "That's a start. But he still thinks he's coming to get it."
My phone buzzed almost instantly.
May you like
I turned the screen so Eli could see it. Jason: almost there.
Through the open door, the dark SUV's windshield caught the sun. Tyler was still on the porch, his back to us, hands in his pockets. Inside, the duffel bag hadn't moved, the keys were now in Eli's pocket instead of on the table, and my half-measure text glowed between us, not enough to stop anything.
