Lainey POV
The week went by quietly.
Travis worked. I worked. He kissed me goodbye at night and hello in the morning, and we were careful with each other, the way you are with something you've just glued back together. I never did ask him about the phone call by the shed. He had said it was work. I had decided to let that be true.
Beck was quiet, too.
He's always quiet, so I mean more than usual. He had gone somewhere inside himself on Tuesday and hadn't come back out. He poured, and he stocked, and he said "back shelf" and "goodnight." A few times I caught him looking at me like he was about to ask me something. His mouth would even open.
Then he would pick up a rag and walk away.
I didn't push. I had enough going on in my own head.
On Wednesday I walked home a little after midnigh
