"Get in. We're heading to the grocery store," Elliot said as he placed Jared carefully in the backseat. His movements were steady, controlled, but I caught the brief flicker of thought in his eyes, as if he was already planning ahead—adjusting, making space for Jared in ways that felt far too natural.
That alone unsettled me.
Once we were all inside, he drove toward a nearby commercial area. The sky was still bright, leaving us with enough time to shop without rushing. The ride was quiet, but not empty. His presence filled the space, subtle yet impossible to ignore, pressing gently against my senses like a constant reminder.
Inside the store, the dynamic shifted without anyone saying a word. Jared sat comfortably in the cart while Elliot pushed it with ease, his large frame moving through the aisles with quiet authority. I walked ahead, focusing on choosing ingredients, grounding myself in something simple.
