DON’T STOP (Lila and Darrell) novel Chapter 81

Chapter 81

The drive back to my place was quiet. The kind of quiet that presses in on all sides, thick and heavy, broken only by the widt Inum of the engine and the occasional swish of tires over wet pavement. Darrell kept both fank on the wheel, eyes feed on the road, but I could feel him glancing at me every few minutes-quick, careful looks like he was checking if i was still breathing.

I stared out the passenger window at the passing streetlights, their orange glow smearing across the glass in streaks. My head rested against the cool window, forehead pressed to it until the chill seeped into my skin. Everything felt distant and numbe Like I was watching my own life through fogged glass.

When we pulled up to my building, the parking lot lights buzzed faintly overhead. Darrell turned off the engine. The sudden silence was louder than the drive had been.

unbuckled my seatbelt slowly, fingers clumsy, “Thanks for… driving me.”

He nodded once. “Of course.”

I opened the door and stepped out, and he followed without a word. I didn’t tell him to come up. He just did. Like it was the most natural thing

Inside my apartment, the air smelled faintly of laundry detergent and the vanilla candle I’d lit three days ago and never touched again. Everything looked the same-my books scattered on the coffee table, Lara’s sneakers by the door, the throw blanket still folded on the couch-but it all felt wrong. Empty. Like the space had lost its heartbeat when Mom left.

Darrell moved quietly. He went straight to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and pulled out eggs, bread, and butter. He didn ask if I was hungry. He just started cooking-scrambled eggs, toast, and a little salt and pepper. The sizzle of butter in the pan filled the silence. The smell was warm, comforting, almost normal. He set a plate in front of me at the small table. poured a glass of water, and placed it beside the food.

“Eat,” he said softly. Not even ordering. Just… gentle.

1 stared at the plate. My stomach twisted-half hunger, half nausea. But I picked up the fork anyway. Took one bite. Then another. The eggs were soft, warm, and perfectly salted. Tears dropped onto the plate before I even realized I was crying

again.

Darrell didn’t say anything. He just sat across from me, elbows on the table, watching quietly while I ate. When I finished, la cleared the plate, washed it, dried it, and put it away. The water ran softly in the sink, a steady, soothing sound.

I stood up slowly. “I’m going to shower.”

He nodded. “Take your time.”

In the bathroom, I stood under the hot water until my skin turned pink. I scrubbed until I felt raw, trying to wash away the smell of lilies, the feel of cold hands, and the echo of that flatline beep. When I came out in my oversized hoodie and leggings, hair dripping down my back, Darrell was still there, sitting on the couch, elbows on his knees, staring at the fo

He looked up. “I should go. You need rest.”

I shook my head before I could think. “Can you… stay? Just for tonight?”

I didn’t think I could stay alone tonight after sending my mom home.

He paused. His eyes searched mine carefully and, hesitantly, like he didn’t want to push.

6

ctr

8:56 am MMM

Chapter 8L

You don’t have to do this alone,” he said quietly: “But I don’t want to make

your uncomfortable. If you need space

“I don’t.” I whispered. “Not tonight

He exhaled slowly and nodded once. “Okay, but I’m sorry, I need to leave”

Outside, thunder rumbled-low at first, then louder. Rain started tapping against the windows.

Darrell stood up. “I’ll head out before it gets worse.”

He walked to the door. I followed, barefoot, my arms wrapped around myself. He opened it. Rain lashed in immediately- cold wind and the sharp smell of wet concrete. He stepped out and jogged down the stairs to his car.

I stood in the doorway, watching.

He got in and turned the key.

The engine sputtered. Once. Twice. A pathetic cough of sound, then nothing.

He tried again. Same thing-funny little choking noises, headlights flickering weakly.

I laughed.

The sound surprised me. I sounded small, broken, and almost foreign in my throat. But it came again, touder this time, shaky and real. I laughed at the rain beating on his windshield, at the way he kept turning the key like it might suddenly work, and at how ridiculous it all was.

Darrell looked up through the glass, saw me laughing, and gave a small, helpless shrug.

I stepped out onto the landing, rain instantly soaking my hoodie

“Come inside,” I called over the storm. “The rain won’t stop anytime soon, and it seems the car doesn’t want to start.”

He stared at me for a second, rain dripping off his hair and jacket darkening, then nodded. He climbed out, locked the car, and ran back up the stairs.

He stepped inside, dripping, shivering slightly. Water pooled on the mat.

“You’re freezing,” I said. “Go take a hot shower. There are towels in the bathroom.”

He hesitated, his eyes flicking to me, then nodded. “Thanks.”

ľ

While he showered, I stood in the living room, listening to the rain hammer the windows. The sound was steady, almost soothing. When he came out, his hair damp, wearing the same clothes but smelling faintly of my coconut body wash, his stomach growled loudly.

I almost smiled. “Hungry?”

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