Trying to live #Wattys2024

Chapter 40

The silence in the car was suffocating, wrapping around me like a thick fog, smothering every unsaid word. Tension stretched between Henry and me, tightening with each passing second. The alcohol still hummed faintly in my veins, but it wasn't enough to numb the frustration swirling inside me. My gaze was fixed out the window, watching the blur of dark trees and streetlights as they flashed by, but my thoughts were consumed by what had happened earlier—how Henry had just sat there, unmoving, doing nothing.

I stole a glance at him, my pulse quickening. His face was locked in that familiar, unreadable expression he'd perfected over the past year. Cold. Distant. So different from the Henry I once knew—the one who was always warm and protective, the one who would go out of his way to defend me. The one who made me feel safe.

  Now he couldn't even bother to stand up for me in front of Wyatt's stepfather. 

It wasn't the same Henry I had fallen in love with. I should've known that by now. But each time his actions hurt me, it still felt like a fresh wound.

Because you let him have that power over you, my inner voice warned. 

I clenched my fists in my lap, feeling the words bubbling up before I could stop them. They erupted from me, sharp and bitter.

"Why didn't you speak up?" I blurted, breaking the oppressive silence.

Henry's grip on the steering wheel tightened, his knuckles turning white, but he kept his gaze forward.

"What would you have wanted me to say?" His voice was low, almost detached, but there was something simmering beneath the surface.

"Anything!" I snapped, turning toward him, my pulse racing, frustration boiling over. "You just sat there, Henry. You didn't say a word when Wyatt's stepfather tore into me."

"He's Juliette's dad, Em," Henry shot back, his voice tight, almost defensive. "What did you expect me to do?"

The words struck me like a blow, but instead of backing down, they fueled my anger. "Oh, I don't know, maybe stand up for me? Like you used to. You remember that Henry, right?"

 His jaw clenched, and he cast a quick glance in my direction, eyes hard. "What would it have changed? He doesn't like you and he never will." 

"That's not the point!" I nearly shouted, feeling the familiar sting in my chest. I turned fully toward him now, needing to see his face, needing to see some sign of the person I used to know. "You didn't even try. You just sat there like you didn't care. You just let Juliette's dad say whatever he wanted about me like I'm a drug addict. You used to always have my back."

Henry exhaled sharply, his expression hardening as his fingers gripped the wheel even tighter. "Just let it go, Em. You don't understand how complicated it is."

"Complicated?" I let out a hollow laugh, shaking my head. "You think this is complicated? Watching you do nothing while Mr. Monroe humiliated me? That's not complicated, Henry. That's you not giving a damn."

Finally, his eyes flicked toward me again, filled with a mix of frustration and something else—something that twisted in my gut. For a brief moment, I thought he might say something, but he bit it back, keeping his focus on the road.

I should know not to say things like that because we weren't anything anymore, but it hurt. It might have been the effects of the alcohol or it was just me tired of always pretending that he didn't matter or his actions didn't matter. 

Sometimes, I just wanted to let everything out. 

Maybe this was the time for it.

And when I thought he wouldn't say anything, he did.