I let myself enjoy the peace of it.
That Saturday, when the door closed behind Tasha and I was left with only Trent's laughter ringing in my ears, I felt like I'd just stepped out of a storm. For the first time in weeks, I could breathe without second-guessing myself—because surely, after what happened, she must've gotten the message. Which would mean no more hidden traps, no stolen glances, no almost-crossed lines. Just quiet.
And I clung to that thought.
The weekend drifted by in a way I hadn't felt in a while—light, steady, even simple. Trent stayed over for a bit, and when he finally left, the silence of my place didn't feel like a weight pressing down. It actually felt... good. I cleaned, I cooked, I even sat back with a book for a few hours without checking my phone every ten minutes.
