My Last And My Only

Chapter 101: Somewhere Between Quiet and Home

The road out of the city had fully given way to greener stretches now.

Fewer buildings.

More trees.

A slower rhythm to everything outside the windows.

Inside Khae's car, the atmosphere was quiet—but not empty.

Aiah sat in the front passenger seat, her seat slightly reclined, one hand loosely resting near the console.

Khae drove with calm focus, one hand on the wheel, the other occasionally shifting gears with practiced ease.

For a while, neither of them spoke.

They didn't need to.

At a red light, Khae's hand shifted slightly off the wheel.

Aiah noticed without looking at her phone.

She unscrewed her water bottle and held it out.

Khae glanced at her briefly.

"...I'm driving."

"It's a red light."

Khae exhaled something close to a laugh and leaned slightly over just enough to take a sip.

Not rushed.

Not exaggerated.

Just familiar.

"Thanks," Khae said softly, settling back into her seat as the light turned green.

Aiah hummed, eyes already back on the road ahead.

That was it.

No more needed to be said.

In the back seat, Nica and Francheska had already surrendered to the motion of the road.

Heads leaned slightly against the window.

Breathing slowed.

Both of them asleep.

Not dramatic.

Not posed.

Just rest.

The kind that only happens when you feel safe enough not to stay alert.

In the other car, chaos was more alive.

Yves was holding her phone up, mapping their route again for what felt like the fifth time.

"We are still on schedule."

"That sounds like a threat," Gwen muttered from the back seat.

She had one arm resting against the window, head slightly tilted, eyes half-lidded but still awake enough to observe everything.

Chico, sitting nearby, glanced at her.

"You're enjoying this more than you admit."

Gwen didn't even look at him.

"I'm tolerating it."

"That's the same thing."

"It is not."

But she was smiling faintly anyway.

Christine, in the middle of the back seat, was narrating something no one specifically asked for.

"This is the kind of drive that changes a person..."

"It's an hour and a half," Gwen cut in.

"emotionally," Christine finished.

Yves didn't even look up.