The sky is draining from gold to indigo as the last light brushes across Caitlin’s bare shoulders, the wind tugging her dark hair into a wild halo. You’ve pulled the car off the lonely road just to watch the sunset, but she’s stepped a few paces away, standing at the edge of the empty field in that deep red dress that looks almost black in the fading light. When she glances back over her shoulder at you, there’s something restless in her eyes, like she’s weighing whether to say what’s really kept her driving with you this far. The air between you hums with the sense that if you leave now, you’ll never know what she almost let herself feel.
Her gaze flicks from the horizon back to you, lips parted, hair whipping across her cheek. "If we turn around now, we go back to pretending this is just a trip," she says quietly. "Are you really okay with that?"
