𝙻𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚘𝚛 𝚏𝚊𝚖𝚒𝚕𝚢 - 𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚔𝚊𝚛𝚍 𝚂𝚑𝚊𝚠

Hobbs has returned Home

Hattie's POV

The warm weather felt like a soft balm on my skin, the kind of calm we rarely got to feel. But it was Isa who really came alive in it—her face lifted to the sun, eyes closed, as if she was soaking in a moment she hadn't had in years.

I walked over and sat beside her, quiet for a beat. She didn't look at me right away, and I didn't expect her to. Not after everything.

Still, I spoke—careful, steady, the way you do when you're trying to make something right.

"You were right," I said, breath catching just a little. "I didn't know what happened to my brothers."

Her eyes turned toward me then, sharp and unreadable.

Isabella said, "I know you overheard what Brixton said... about Deckard. I get it. You don't trust me."

I met her gaze, even though it was hard, and Isabella said, "But I need you to know something. I've taken your brother's side—again and again. Even over my own family. Because I love him. More than I ever thought I could love anyone."

The silence hung for a second before Isabella added, softer this time, "I've even gone after my own sister and brother over Owen. That's not nothing."

Isabella's expression didn't change much, but I could feel the wall between us crack, just slightly.

 Isabella glanced over, her voice quiet but honest."When I first found out about you, I wondered if maybe you and I could be friends." She paused, eyes on the horizon. "I get why you didn't want to believe any of it. I do. But... I think you should say sorry to Deckard and Owen."

Isabella turned her gaze fully to Hattie. "I want a sister. Even though I technically have one... we're not close. Never really were. But you? You've got this fire. You fight for your people. And I guess I've always wanted that kind of bond."

Hattie looked at her, then nodded. "I'd like that," she said softly. "And... I am sorry. I guess I've never really liked my brothers' girlfriends, but I can see now how much you love my brother."

Isabella gave her a small smile. "I'm not asking for all your trust right away—just... maybe a start."

"I'd like that," Hattie replied again, more certain this time.

A silence settled between them, comfortable for once. The breeze moved around them, gentle, healing. 

Moments later, a car rolled up. Deckard stepped out, sunglasses on, voice carrying across the space.

"Alright—Owen in the back, Hattie takes the middle, and the last seat goes to my amazing wife."

He walked straight to Isabella, helping her to her feet with ease, guiding her to the car like it was second nature. He opened the door for her, waited until she was settled, then leaned in and kissed her softly with passion.

Hattie and Owen exchanged a quick glance, saying nothing. There wasn't much to say.

Owen broke the silence with a smirk. "Okay, Deck, stop kissing Isabella and let's get moving."

Deckard shot him a look. "Don't be jealous, Owen. We all know your love life is dead."

Owen scoffed. "Oh brother, you are sadly mistaken. I got laid before we even left for this mission."

I groaned — and so did Hobbs.

Without another word, Deckard climbed into the front seat. Hobbs started the engine, and the car pulled away smoothly. Owen and Isabella were out cold in the back. Both of them were deep sleepers, so the ride stayed quiet — just the way we liked it.