Garrett's POV:
I shut the door behind me a little harder than I intended.
The sound echoed through the apartment—sharp, final, accusing.
For a second, I just stood there with my back against it, my hand still gripping the handle like I needed something solid to hold onto. My chest rose and fell unevenly, my thoughts still tangled from everything that had just happened outside, at the cafe.
Brandon.
His face.
The fear in his eyes.
The way he looked at me like he knew something but didn't know what yet.
I dragged a hand down my face, exhaling slowly.
This was getting out of control.
I pushed myself off the door and started toward the stairs, my steps heavier than usual, like every inch of this house suddenly carried weight.
I barely made it halfway across the living room when his voice cut through the air.
"Where are you coming from?"
I froze.
Of course.
I turned slowly.
