Run To Me | BAK sequel

12.

The car rode along the highway, dark as it was you could still make out the features that grew more familiar the closer you got to his house; From the fence that lined the main road that signified you were at least ten minutes away, to the bumps in the road that grew less frequent and the odd cow that spotted in the distance thanks to the near blinding headlights.

You'd had a few experiences where you'd sat and stared out of the window on drives just like this one, down the same highway, eyes taking in the trip and while some of those times weren't the best (staring teary-eyed at the scenery so you didn't have to stare or pay any attention to Tom) some of those were spent playing games of I spy and taking in every little detail until the scene was permanently engraved in your mind.

So now, driving back to the place you once called your home with radio silence, you were filled with all kinds of nostalgia and a heavy amount of fear but your grief- while it was there was hidden beneath so many other unexpressed emotions. You had to wonder if he still owned the same ugly, navy blue couch in the library- or even the same books kept untouched. Whether or not he had the same staff was a mystery to you and you only hoped he kept the same chef?

"Is she asleep?"

You're snapped out of your thoughts by Tom, who keeps his eyes trained on the road and you blink a few times to adjust to the light, craning your neck to see your daughter fast asleep with curls thrown over her eyes, a blanket over her chest and legs and stuffed toy on the ground below her feet. Rosie's' mouth was open slightly, droll escaping as she snored softly. She looked utterly carefree.

In the boot, you could see your bags piled on top of one another.

"She's fast asleep." You tell him, covering your mouth with your hand as you yawn gently, mind taunting you with the thought of sleep for a single moment. "I'm glad, usually she'd get carsick on a ride this long." You sit in silence for a moment before you speak up, eyes falling to Tom who looked fairly concentrated. "You know I'm not trying to hide you- who you are from Rosie, I don't want this to be a secret forever."

He nods. "I get it. This is a new thing for all of us, we're adapting. As much as I'd love for her to know, it's just best that we take things slow- for our sake as well." Tom turns a bend before asking a question that was plaguing his mind since you'd left earlier that night. "How do you feel?"

You shrug, "Tired, I didn't get much sleep last night."

"That's not what I meant." Tom drags his gaze off of the road for a few seconds, looking at you before looking back to the road. "How do you feel about your dad- about his death?"

Truthfully you felt like your chest was threatening to concave- that your eyes were dams near close to exploding and your throat was only demanding that you let go but you were an expert at pretending everything was okay when it wasn't.

"I'm fine." Your voice reaches a new pitch.

"Y/N-"

"I'm fine." You grit your teeth, heart pounding in your chest and it was the only thing you could hear in the confined vehicle. "We weren't that close anyway."

Lies. Your weekends sometimes consisted of spending hours at his- your old house, discussing your weeks over a cup of tea and a packet of malt biscuits. Your weekdays sometimes included keeping Rosie out of daycare and going to old cafes with him in tow and Christmas every since Rosie was born was spent at his place, opening gifts under the tree you'd had since you were her age. Every year it shrunk but wasn't, was your little girl who seemed to be growing with every passing day.

You pick at a loose string on your sweater, curling it around one finger before resting your arm on the space between the passenger seat and the driver's seat just as Tom removes one hand from the wheel- resting it only inches away from yours until his fingers ghost beside your own and you tense. He bought a sudden warmth; having him so close bought a slight comfort that you'd admit you'd been craving.