Page 76 of Let Me In

Jaw locked.

Heart pounding in a rhythm that feels too much like don’t leave her there.

But I do.

Because she’s not mine to keep.

Not yet.

But God, she’s mine to protect.

And that truth sits heavy in my chest—like armor I can’t take off. It’s the thing that drives my next breath, steadies my hands on the wheel.

And I’ll be back tonight.

Even if she’s not ready to ask for it.

I’ll be back.

Because that house is not her home.

Mine is.

And whether she knows it or not—

She already belongs there.

She disappears inside.

The door shuts behind her, soft like a held breath.

And I stay.

Hands braced on the wheel. Eyes locked on the house that doesn’t deserve her.

I don’t see anyone.

But I feel it.

The tension in the walls. The heat behind the curtains. The weight of words I didn’t get to hear—but that she’s been carrying since the moment she turned her phone on.

She walked into it like she was preparing for war. Shoulders squared too tightly, chin tilted just enough to fake indifference. The morning light caught on the set of her jaw, sharp and resigned—like her own armor she’s worn too long to even notice the weight of anymore.

And I let her go.

For now.

Because she asked nothing of me.

But that doesn’t mean I’ll stay still.

I don’t move for another thirty seconds. Maybe more. Just long enough to watch the shadows shift. Just long enough to get one last glimpse of her shape passing behind the window—shoulders rounded, head bowed.

And that’s it.

That’s all it takes.

I put the truck in drive.

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