Chapter Text
“Come on, Mick. We’re celebrating.”
“What? The end of my relationship?” Michaela asks with a hint of sarcasm as she watches Evie down another shot of tequila.
“The start of your new chapter,” Evie grins. “And, of course, you being one step closer to becoming a detective,” she adds as an afterthought.
The bartender places another shot in front of Evie, his eyes gleaming in the dimly lit bar. Evie flashes one of her coy smiles at him before winking at Michaela, as she watches her friend flirting in amusement.
She picks up her cocktail, only her second this night, and takes a sip.
She has a lot to celebrate: the big arrest that put her on the road to promotion; surviving another year on the job, and finally feeling like she is good at it. But this morning Jared came over to pick up the things he kept in her apartment for the nights he slept over. He stayed longer than she wanted him to, throwing resentful looks at her like she was the only one responsible for how things ended between them. His quiet, far-from-inconspicuous sulking continued all throughout the day at work, leaving her spent by the time she left the station.
The day felt beyond unsalvageable when she met up with Evie.
Leave it to Evie to turn things around for her.
Michaela takes another sip of her drink, scanning the room. The club is quieter than usual, missing its late-night crowd. The music is fast and loud. Every beat, every thud reverberates through her, setting the rhythm to her heart. It beats harder to keep up with the music’s tempo.
Despite the noise surrounding her, it’s the most relaxed she’s felt all day.
She needed this: a few hours of madness to forget the world outside the club. And absolutely no thoughts of Jared.
That’s why it’s just her and Evie tonight. If Lourdes were here, she would convince her to call him and to not throw away all their years together, to fix everything. And she’d listen.
No, she needs someone to assure her that she didn’t make the biggest mistake of her life leaving Jared. She needs Evie.
Because Evie understands. Evie knows how hard she tried to make it work and how much it took from her. She saw everything: the good parts and the absolute worst parts.
Michaela sighs into her almost-empty cocktail glass. If she’s being honest with herself, breaking up with Jared doesn’t feel wrong.
It feels… strange, weird. He’s been a part of her life for so long that his absence should feel more heart-wrenching, it should leave a giant hole in her heart. Yet the emptiness she expected to feel is barely present. She misses him, sure. Just not the sulking, ignoring-her-at-work Jared of now; she misses the Jared from earlier.
A sudden movement beside her interrupts her thoughts. Evie swirls in her chair, almost losing balance mid-spin. She grabs Michaela’s arm to keep herself from falling to the floor.
Michaela’s heart jumps. Evie giggles, and Michaela can’t stop herself from joining in, feeling the weight on her chest slip away as her whole body shakes from laughter. She looks at her friend, at her glassy eyes, and the way she sways slightly when she moves.
It’s time to leave.
Otherwise, they’ll keep drinking, which doesn’t sound like a half-bad idea. But Evie has work in the morning, and that’s already going to be unpleasant without adding more alcohol to the mix.
Michaela signals the bartender and, despite Evie’s protests, pays the tab.
She gathers their things and steers Evie toward the exit, while Evie tries to tug her in the opposite direction, toward the dance floor, determined to keep their night alive.
The cold air hits them when they step out of the club as the inevitable question of how to get home arises. Evie shuffles to her car, dancing a little with each step as she digs her keys out of her purse.
Michaela stops her, pulling out her phone.
“What are you doing?” Evie asks, tilting her head.
“Calling Uber.” Michaela doesn’t look up when she answers.
Evie pouts. “Nooo, I need my car in the morning.” She stares at Michaela innocently, the corners of her mouth turning up in a smile. It’s the look of someone who knows how to push all the right buttons of their best friend.
Michaela considers her choices and, after a moment, gives in, smiling back, unable to fight it. She snatches the keys from Evie’s hands.
Evie raises her hands in victory, singing, “Michaela! Michaela!”
They climb into the car, and Michaela puts the key into the ignition. The cabin fills with the low hum of the engine.
She steps on the gas.
The car revs loudly as it lurches forward, and a second later stops with a jolt, jerking both Michaela and Evie forward in their seats.
The engine stalls.
Michaela gasps, her heart pounding. She grips the steering wheel before yanking the keys out and gets out of the car. Her breathing comes fast, uneven. She takes a few steps away from the car, then turns around and comes back, placing her hands on the hood. She slumps forward, trying to even her breath.
Evie knocks on the windshield in an attempt to catch Michaela’s attention.
Michaela looks at her friend gesturing for her to get back into the car.
She shakes her head. “We’re taking a cab.”
“But my car…” Evie whines, her shoulder sagging.
“I’m not risking it. No.” Michaela’s voice is firm as she pulls her phone out again to call the cab while Evie reluctantly gets out of her car and joins Michaela.
Ten minutes later, the car that was supposed to arrive five minutes ago is still nowhere to be seen.
“It’s not too late to change your mind,” Evie sings behind her, half-leaning on her car.
“We’re taking a cab,” Michaela insists, glancing at her phone to check the ride’s location. Instead, a cancellation notification from the driver pops up. “Crap,” she mutters under her breath.
“Maybe it’s a sign.” Evie appears behind her back, peeking at the screen over her shoulder. “To go back inside.”
Michaela laughs, hearing the teasing smile in Evie’s voice.
“You have work in the morning,” Michaela reminds her.
“Ugh, you’re a buzzkiller.”
Michaela hears Evie’s heels clicking against the pavement as she walks away, the sound fading with each step. She turns around, ready to follow her best friend. Back to the bar, to her car, to the ends of the earth. Wherever Evie wants to go.
Halfway to the bar’s entrance, Evie takes a sharp turn, heading toward the side street with surprising determination.
Michaela watches her best friend approach a cab parked there, its lights off.
She sees Evie peek inside and knock on the passenger window. Someone’s sitting there, Michaela realizes, because after a few seconds Evie opens the front door and flashes her impossible-to-resist charming smile.
Michaela stays frozen, watching, as Evie leans forward, talking to the cab driver. Evie raises one of her arms to slowly tuck her hair behind her ear, then reaches inside the car, but from where Michaela is standing, she can’t see what Evie’s doing.
It works, though, because at that moment Evie climbs out and turns around, beaming. She points to Michaela and says something to the driver.
“Mick,” Evie shouts as she gestures for Michaela to join her, shutting the front door and opening the rear one.
Snapping out of her trance, Michaela starts walking toward the cab.
She reaches the car quickly, maybe too quickly, as she has to pause for a second to catch her breath before climbing in. “Hi,” she murmurs to the driver as she settles into the seat.
Evie greets her with a happy smile. “Zeke’s on a break, but he agreed to take us home.”
Michaela nods, melting into the warmth of the backseat. The air smells crisp, like cold air and snow in the early morning, mixed with something woody.
She closes her eyes, placing her head against the headrest, as the car begins to move.
Evie chats with the driver, giggling at something he says.
Michaela opens her eyes, catching sight of the man behind the wheel in the rearview mirror. He looks to be about her age. And he looks handsome, at least those parts of his face she can see. She watches his stoic, focused expression crack. His eyes twinkle, reacting to one of Evie’s stories. A chuckle escapes him, a sweet, deep sound coming from within his chest. Michaela shivers, feeling the driver’s, Zeke’s, laughter reverberate through her bones.
Goosebumps appear over her skin.
She should be happy for Evie. It’s never been hard for her to connect with anyone, and no one has ever been able to resist her charm. Not the bartender at the club. Not Zeke, the driver. There’s no reason to feel so jealous.
But there is something about him.
Something different, comforting, that’s pulling her gaze toward him.
His voice, his laugh. It sounds so familiar. The line between his eyebrows. The unruly strand of hair that falls over his forehead.
Michaela shakes off her thoughts, her gaze lingering on him for a moment longer. It’s a momentary weakness. She just broke up with Jared and hasn’t had the chance to truly get over it. She is vulnerable, and he is attractive.
Besides, entertaining these thoughts about Zeke is a bad idea, especially with the way Evie is flirting with him in her unique I-really-like-this-guy way. She’d never let anything come between her and her best friend.
The car stops at a red light. Michaela looks out the window, not focusing on anything in particular, trying to stop herself from sneaking another glance at Zeke. She feels hot, different from the heat of the alcohol coursing through her body. It’s as if someone lit her body on fire or turned up the heat in the car. Every inch of her skin is burning, and tingling.
She sits up straight, turning her head. They’re still waiting for the light to turn green. She blinks, trying to adjust her gaze, then glances at the rearview mirror again.
Her eyes meet Zeke’s.
They look dark in the car, almost black. Deep and curious. He stares at her with the softness of someone seeing their friend, not a stranger in the back of his cab.
It’s not the usual kind of glance, where both of them would look away awkwardly after a few seconds. His gaze holds her captive, keeping her from looking anywhere but him. He stares at her, mesmerized until a loud sound of a horn from a car behind them breaks him out of the spell.
Zeke presses on the gas, continuing their ride. His eyes flicker toward her whenever the road allows, sometimes for a fraction of a second. These moments are brief, fleeting, but they’re enough to send a shiver down her spine, to make her heart skip a beat.
“Earth to Mick,” Evie laughs beside her, pulling Michaela from her thoughts.
Michaela blinks, looking around in confusion. When did they stop?
The familiar sight of Evie’s house greets her outside.
Evie smirks, her gaze jumping from Michaela to Zeke, amused. “You gonna let me out?”
Michaela rolls her eyes, averting them. Her cheeks turn pink.
Evie sticks her face through the glass partition, separating them and the driver. She giggles, handing Zeke a stack of dollar bills with something else tucked in between with a wide grin, “Thanks, Zeke.”
She pushes the door open, but before stepping out, glances back at Michaela, “You owe me a ride in the morning.”
Still smiling, she jumps out of the car, shutting the door behind her. She walks up the path to her house, tossing a goodbye wave at Michaela before disappearing onto the porch.
Silence settles in the car. Thick, electric. Intimate.
Michaela exhales. Just the two of them now.
“Where to?” Zeke asks, his voice warm, intoxicating. He pulls away from the curb, cruising at a low speed while he waits for her answer.
Michaela hesitates. She doesn’t want to go home just yet. Back to the painful memories of the morning.
“Can we… just drive?”
Zeke glances at her in the rearview mirror. “Anywhere in particular? Queens, Brooklyn, Manhattan?”
Michaela shakes her head. “No, anywhere is fine.”
Zeke nods, pressing his foot down; the car picks up speed.
They ride off into the quiet streets of the city, passing streetlights and neon signs. They blur past them, casting soft, colorful shadows across both of their faces before disappearing from view.
Michaela leans her head against the window, as she sneaks another glance at Zeke. At the way the muscles in his arms flex when he grips the wheel, steering the car.
He turns to her at a stop sign, looking at her properly now, without the rearview mirror’s distortion.
“You okay?” he asks gently, his voice parting the comfortable silence.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Michaela offers a small, tired smile.
Zeke studies her for a moment as if deciding whether to believe her. He doesn’t push, instead turning his attention back to the road.
“Your friend seemed to have had the time of her life tonight,” Zeke interrupts the silence again, chuckling, the rich sound filling the cab.
Michaela laughs under her breath. The tension in her shoulders loosens just a little.
“Yeah, she did.”
“And you didn’t?” Zeke asks, his tone curious.
Michaela exhales, looking out the window. “Not tonight.”
Zeke nods, slowing down the car before turning a sharp corner. It feels like they’ve been driving around for hours, tucked away in a confined space of the car, cut off from the outside world. The city passes them by, filled with light, and people, and life. Such a contrast to the night sky above them and the darkness inside the cab.
Michaela rolls down the window. The cold air enters the car, filling it with a loud whirling noise, as it travels across the tiny space inside, searching for a way out.
She shivers under the chilly wind but welcomes it. The fresh air helps clear her head, washing away the lingering buzz from the alcohol.
Zeke watches her carefully through the rearview mirror, before switching his attention back to the road again. He does this a lot, Michaela notices. Like he can’t stop himself from looking at her.
In the same way she can’t keep her eyes off of him.
“Do you…,” Michaela hesitates, forcing down a lump in her throat. Zeke doesn’t react. The open window carries her question away before it can reach him.
She closes the window. The cab fills with an easy quiet, softer, and more comforting now. As if all the tension was blown away by the wind.
“Do you ever feel like you’re stuck?” Michaela tries again. “Like everyone expects you to be okay, to keep moving forward. And you’re just… frozen. Trapped.” The question comes out fast, with no hesitation. Like she’s not asking a stranger, but an old friend. Someone with whom she can talk freely, without being judged.
Zeke tightens his hold on the steering wheel. He stays silent for a moment. His jaw tenses, like he’s trying to stop himself from blurting out the answer before he is sure of it. Before he can weigh his words.
“All the time,” he says, finally, his voice almost a whisper.
“How do you deal with that?” Michaela exhales, looking out the window.
“I’m not sure I’m the right person to ask that.”
Michaela turns her attention back to Zeke. “What do you mean?”
“My coping methods aren’t exactly healthy.” He shrugs, not looking away from the road.
“Like what?” Michaela asks, her interest piqued.
“Whatever makes me forget about it.” His words settle between them, heavy.
Michaela doesn’t speak. The unsaid meaning behind Zeke’s words ringing in her ears. She knows it too well—the urge to forget, to drown out the voices in her head. That’s what she was doing tonight, in the club, with Evie.
Yet the reality comes crashing down anyway. In the same way her two drinks weren’t enough to quiet her mind.
“My brother’s got it all figured out. And I’m… lost,” she admits, her lip trembling.
“You’ll find your way.”
“How do you know that?”
“I just do,” Zeke says, his voice certain. “We’re driving around right now. Taking a scenic route, if you will. Doesn’t mean there’s no destination. You just don’t know what it is yet.” He stops the car on the side of the road, then turns around to look at her. “But eventually you’ll get to where you’re meant to be.”
The silence settles between them like a quiet understanding. The hum of the engine fills the cabin, steady, and relaxing, blending with the sound of splashing water outside, creating a peaceful melody.
Michaela stares out the window, at the cityscape on the other side of the East River, her fingers tracing patterns on her thighs, calming her down. “Do you really believe that?”
“I do.”
Her chest aches at his simple answer, yearning for it to be true. She wants to believe him, that maybe things will get better. That there’s a way forward. “Can we go outside for a bit?” she asks, distracted.
Zeke nods without hesitation and kills the engine, “Of course.”
Michaela gets out of the car and walks slowly toward the riverfront. The cool night air greets her, and she shivers under its cold touch. She crosses her arms, missing the warmth of the car.
She hears Zeke shut his door, and a moment later, he joins her, walking close enough for her to feel his presence beside her but not too close to make it uncomfortable.
She inches closer to him until she can almost feel the warmth of his body oozing through his clothes, grounding her.
“Sorry if I’m keeping you from working,” Michaela apologizes, biting her lip. It feels different being out on the street with him, not in the small space of the car with the glass separating them.
“You’re not.”
Michaela turns her head to look at him, at the way he carries himself—so calm. So put-together. A vast difference from how he describes feeling inside.
She feels safe strolling along with him by her side. It should scare her, the spell this stranger put her under, making her forget to be cautious. She is a cop, for God’s sake. Yet she feels secure, certain he won’t hurt her. Against all logic, all the rules she follows meticulously, she trusts him.
The man is a mystery, that she is sure of. How can someone look so composed and stable, yet claim to feel lost inside?
“Looks so different, doesn’t it?” Zeke asks beside her, first looking up at the sky and then around them. “Without people here. Under these stars. Feels like we’re alone in the world. The two of us.”
“Yeah, it’s peaceful.”
“It’s the first time in a while I’ve actually stopped to enjoy the view.”
“What? You don’t let your passengers pull you out of the cab and make you walk around with them?” Michaela jokes, her heart leaping with delight at seeing Zeke’s smile.
Zeke laughs, shaking his head. “Can’t say I’ve ever had the pleasure.”
“Guess I’m special.” Michaela turns to him, meeting his gaze. In the dimly lit cab his eyes seemed black, but now, standing so close to him, she can see their true color — deep blue, warm and kind, looking at her gently under the night’s lights. She can’t help but wonder: if this is the way he looks at her, a stranger, what it would feel like to have him stare at her when she’s no longer just his passenger, but someone he cares about.
Zeke stares back at her, transfixed. “Yeah,” he breathes out, “I guess you are.” His words are soft, hushed, almost like they weren’t meant to be said out loud.
Michaela hides her hands in the pockets of her coat, trying to stop herself from reaching out to him, and resumes walking. Her heart flutters, beating to a new, but at the same time familiar melody.
They stroll in comfortable silence for a few minutes. The city hums in the distance, its sound softened and muted. In this moment, it feels like they are the only two people in the world, walking under the endless night sky, illuminated by thousands of stars. A rare sight in New York.
Michaela exhales slowly, curling her fingers inside of her pockets, looking for something to hold on to, to anchor herself. Somehow Zeke’s presence beside her makes her want to open her heart, and spill all her secrets.
“I almost made a mistake tonight,” she confesses, her gaze dropping to the pavement as if the weight of her words is pulling it down. Zeke stays silent, listening. “Got behind the wheel, was going to drive Evie and me home.”
“But you didn’t. You got out, found a cab.”
“I wouldn’t have if the car didn’t stop.”
“What do you mean?” Zeke tilts his head, his attention on her.
“The engine stalled. Right when we took off.” Michaela lets out a shaky breath, wrapping her arms around herself again. “Like it was some kind of sign, saying ‘Don’t drink and drive, Michaela’,” she mimics. Her voice catches in her throat as her eyes start to tear up.
“Maybe it was,” Zeke shrugs his shoulders, studying her.
“I don’t believe in signs.”
“Whether it was a sign or not, you listened, didn’t you?” Zeke says gently. “Because you’re here.”
“I keep replaying it over and over. If we took off, and something happened—” Michaela’s voice breaks as she struggles to fight back her tears. “To me or Evie. I just… can’t imagine the pain it’d cause.” Michaela slows to a stop, a weight shifting in her chest.
She turns her head, afraid to meet Zeke’s eyes. Scared of the judgment she might see there. But the sound of a pained, shaky breath pulls her gaze to him, her fears be damned.
Zeke stands with his back to her, gripping his hands on the railing, his knuckles turning white. He stares into the water and the city lights reflected in it.
“I can,” he whispers into the night.
Michaela steps closer, moving to stand beside him, their bodies almost touching. Her hand brushes his on the railing, sending a spark of something she can’t recognize through her.
“My sister died when I was 15,” Zeke says, facing her. His voice trembles, lips quivering. His eyes darken with pain. “Because of me.”
Michaela grabs his hand, squeezing it as tight as she can, and holds his gaze.
“I was stupid and selfish. And she died because I got distracted by some girl I barely knew. I was supposed to be watching her, making sure she didn’t wander off alone,” he chokes out, barely holding back a sob. “It destroyed my family.” He exhales shakily. “I destroyed it. So yeah, I know all about that pain.” Zeke lets out a broken laugh, blinking rapidly like he’s fighting back tears.
“Zeke.” Michaela lets go of his hand and turns her body to him. She wraps her arms around him, pressing her hands against his back, pulling him closer until there’s no space left between them.
Zeke stands frozen for a few seconds, his breath caught somewhere in his chest. Then, slowly, one of his arms moves up her back, cautious and gentle, like he’s easing into the embrace. Unsure if this is real, if he’s allowed to hold her.
She clings to him, not letting go.
He slides his arm higher, toward her shoulders. Michaela feels his fingers graze her upper back, tangling in her hair. His other arm wraps around her waist. He rests his head in the crook of her shoulder and exhales.
The world outside vanishes the moment they touch. It slips away, leaving the two of them alone in the universe. The muffled melody of the city grows silent, unable to penetrate the barrier created by their close embrace.
Michaela feels Zeke’s warm unsteady breaths even out, as he calms down, his face still hidden.
She doesn’t know how long they stand there, wrapped in each others arms, holding each other up like they’re the only thing keeping the other from falling apart.
“Do you hug all your drivers?” Zeke asks into her shoulder, breaking their fragile moment of vulnerability. His voice sounds clearer, calmer, only traces of pain remain.
Michaela giggles against his ear. Her body trembles against his. And she feels him absorb every tremor of her laughter.
“Only the special ones,” she murmurs, a teasing note in her voice, recalling their earlier conversation.
She lets go of him, missing the warmth of his body the second he steps away. He looks shy, averting his eyes.
“Thanks,” Zeke breathes out. “For that.” He gestures between them. “I’ve never told anyone that.”
“Thank you for trusting me.” Michaela smiles softly and grabs his hand, desperate to touch him again, pulling him away from the railing to continue their late-night stroll.
They walk for what feels like hours, comfortable in the silence between them, interrupted by bits of conversation about nothing and everything.
A cold breeze hits them, disturbing their peaceful walk. Michaela shivers, her body no longer able to keep her warm enough in the open air of the frosty night. The events of the day finally catch up to her, as exhaustion settles in her bones.
“Cold?” Zeke asks, concerned.
“Tired.” Michaela gives him a weary smile.
“Let’s head back to the car, warm you up,” he suggests. At her nod, he turns around, guiding her back the way they came, still holding her hand.
When they reach the car, the sky above them is no longer dark, softened by streaks of pink and orange on the horizon. Zeke leads Michaela to the passenger side, opens the front door, helping her inside.
She is already half-asleep, when he settles into his seat, turning the ignition and switching on the heat.
“Michaela,” Zeke whispers, his fingertips gently grazing her skin, afraid to disturb her. She stirs awake. “I need an address.”
She blinks, waking up, trying to gather her thoughts. The words die on her lips when she remembers what Evie said when they dropped her off.
“Crap,” she blurts out instead.
“What?”
“Evie’s car. She needs it in the morning.” She pulls out her phone, checking the time. “And it’s already morning.”
“I can give her a ride after I drop you off,” Zeke offers, shrugging his shoulders.
“I can’t ask you to do that, after I dragged you around all night.”
“So what do you want to do?”
“Go back to the club, so I can get her car,” Michaela sighs, the last bits of energy seeping out of her body.
“You feel okay to drive?” Zeke stares at her, studying her face.
“I’ll have to.”
“How about this—I’ll drive back to the club, follow you to Evie’s house, and give you a ride home after that? Sound good?” Zeke proposes, placing his hands on the steering wheel.
Michaela nods tiredly. “Yeah.” She’d agree to anything if it meant spending a few extra minutes with him.
The drive back to the club is over far too fast. With most of the city asleep, the streets are empty and even the occasional red light is not enough to prolong the ride. They spend most of it in silence, with the periodic rhythmic clicking of the turn signal breaking their peaceful tranquility.
Zeke pulls up to the curb, parking the cab close to Evie’s car. The club, that was brimming with life when Michaela and Evie left, is now quiet, closed until the next evening.
Michaela drifts back to consciousness, having spent the ride back teetering on the edge of sleep.
“The offer to drive Evie still stands,” Zeke smiles, glancing at her.
“It’s okay,” she answers, unbuckling her seatbelt. She digs around in her purse, searching for Evie’s car keys, fearful she might have returned them when they left the car. After a minute of careful digging, she fishes them out, the keys now secure in her hand.
“You said you’d follow me?” she hesitates, her fingers pausing on the door handle.
“Only if you want me to,” Zeke replies softly, watching her every movement.
“I want you to,” she whispers, offering him a smile in return. Zeke nods.
She climbs out of the cab and heads towards Evie’s car, tension coiling in her body, making it harder to walk away from him. It feels as if whatever has been pulling her to Zeke all night has been stretched too thin the moment she left the car, threatening to snap with each step she takes.
She glances over her shoulder, catching Zeke’s eyes on her, following her until she reaches Evie’s car and climbs inside. His gaze burns her back, making everything inside her stir and warm up. The heat of his gaze is enough to keep her from shivering in the cold early morning air.
Michaela turns the key in the ignition and waits for the car to start. She turns her head, watching Zeke watch her, waiting for her to drive off.
She eases out of the parking lot; the car is steady beneath her grip as it picks up speed. Zeke follows behind her, keeping a safe distance between the cars but close enough to keep her calm and focused.
They reach Evie’s house in record time.
Michaela parks the car in her driveway and gets out, walking up to the front porch to hide the key under one of the flower pots.
Zeke pulls up to the curb, waiting for her.
Once the key is hidden, Michaela hurries toward the cab, eager to climb back inside into its cozy warmth. Back to the man sitting there.
The cab’s front door opens before she can reach it. Michaela sees Zeke lean awkwardly over the center console, his seatbelt restricting free movement. His eyes light up with a smile when he sees her get closer.
She slips into the car, exhaling deeply as all the tension from the last fifteen minutes drains from her body.
“All good?” Zeke asks her, his smile growing wider.
“Yeah,” Michaela answers, gazing softly at him. She wavers for a moment before reciting her address. Despite how much she would like to stay inside his cab for a bit longer, or outside of it, as long as she is with him, she knows she can’t. She’s already stolen too much of his time.
What she needs is to go home, wash off the day and get some sleep. To gather enough strength to figure out what to do next. About her job, Jared. Everything.
This whole night has been like a dream, a reprieve from her life. A brief escape from reality.
The precious, fleeting moment with Zeke, where she opened up to him, and he did the same in return, has felt like a delicate dance of trust and vulnerability, connecting them deeper than with anyone else before.
But no matter what she wants, this moment must end.
She glances over at Zeke, noticing the way he’s driving slightly slower than the rest of the night, like he is too trying to delay the inevitable—the moment they will have to part.
The air becomes stiff. Thick. Heavy with unsaid words. Heavier with suppressed longing. She sees Zeke steal a glance at her. He stays quiet, afraid to break the fragile silence filling the car. The quiet hum of the engine is the only sound accompanying their ride.
Michaela grips her hands on her lap, trying to keep herself from reaching out toward him. To stop herself from grabbing his hand again.
She turns to him, a soft breath escaping her lips instead of words. What can she say? That this night has felt unlike anything before? That the moment their eyes met she felt her heart ache for him? Like it longed to be reunited with him as if it had already known him before she even climbed into his cab? Would he think she’s crazy? Drop her off and vow to never see her again?
The car rolls to a stop at her building, pulling Michaela out of her thoughts.
She feels this night with him slowly slip away, like water through her fingers.
Zeke stays still, like he’s holding his breath waiting for her to make the first move.
“Guess this is me,” Michaela murmurs, her voice quiet, deflated.
He looks at her, studying her with careful affection. A soft, wistful smile appears on his face.
For a moment neither of them move, staring into each other’s eyes. As if both of them are trying to memorize every detail of the other’s face.
Michaela drops her gaze first and reaches for her wallet inside her purse.
Zeke stops her, grabbing her hand. “It’s on the house,” he smiles.
“Zeke, you were driving me around the whole night,” she argues softly, trying to reason with him.
“And I loved—” Zeke says, his voice soft and tender. He falters for a moment, before steadying himself. “Every minute of it.”
Michaela lets the purse fall to her lap, her eyes locking with his once more.
“Me too,” she whispers. “Thank you. For… the talk. Everything.”
His thumbs brushes her palm, drawing circles on it.
“You’re welcome,” he answers, taking a deep breath. “You too.”
Michaela squeezes his hand, curling her fingers around his. A tearful smile forms on her lips, her stomach fluttering under his gaze.
Zeke smiles back. He slowly lifts her hand toward his mouth, like he is allowing her to stop him if it makes her uncomfortable. She doesn’t pull away.
He presses a gentle kiss on the back of her palm; his lips are warm enough to burn her skin, sending a wave of heat through her body.
“Can I at least buy you a coffee?” Michaela asks, her breath catching in her throat, as Zeke pulls his mouth away from her hand. “As a thank you.”
“I’d love that,” he grins. “But I don’t want to keep you up any longer.”
Michaela stares at him for a moment, as her exhaustion catches up to her, pinning her to the seat. She nods. “Maybe some other time then?”
At Zeke’s nod she pulls out her phone and hands it to him, her fingers brushing against his. “Leave me your number.”
She watches as he carefully enters his number into her phone before giving it back to her.
This is the end of the ride, of their night, she knows. Nothing more she can say without making herself look desperate. Afraid of saying too much too fast.
This wasn’t supposed to happen like this. Meeting him when her world is falling apart.
She feels something inside of her shift. Her heart beats to a rhythm she can’t quite understand, steady and strong, as if insisting, “Don’t leave. Don’t leave.”
Zeke told her earlier that she’d find her way, that it’ll happen one way or another.
She watches him, taking in his tired but happy smile. His eyes droop a little, heavy from spending the night staring at the road. She feels at peace sitting here, next to him in his cab. Right at home. Where she belongs. Where she’s meant to be.
Like maybe he is the destination he talked about. And everything that troubles her, she’ll figure it out. As long as she has him by her side.
And that thought terrifies her.
“I’ll call you,” Michaela promises before she collects her things and her thoughts, then opens the cab door. “Drive safe,” she adds quietly as she steps out of the car into the bright early morning.
She reaches the entrance to her building in a few quick steps, turning around to take one last look at the car still parked by the curb.
Zeke smiles at her from his seat, as if waiting for her to go inside before he drives off.
She returns his smile before walking through the door. The phone buzzes in her hand as a text from Evie appears, thanking her for bringing the car. She types a quick reply, then hesitates, staring at Zeke’s phone number. She shakes her head, turning off the phone. She’ll text him later.
She walks up the stairs to her apartment. As a feeling sinks in that she shouldn’t have left his car.