So that's how it was.
Some people will see your car at an intersection and follow you all the way, while others can leave you for eighteen years without a single thought of coming back to see you.
Perhaps this was the difference between people.
Different relationships naturally led to different treatment.
Summer Thorne rested quietly in Timothy York's arms. After a long while, she finally whispered, "I don't want to drive anymore. Can I catch a ride back with you?"
"Okay."
The two got into the car. Summer Thorne continued to lean against Timothy York, seemingly exhausted to the bone, and didn't say a word.
Timothy York didn't say much either, simply letting her rest in his arms until she gradually fell asleep.
...
When Summer Thorne finally awoke from her hazy slumber, the sky was already turning a pale, fish-belly white, and the car she was in was still moving.
The realization startled her. She sat bolt upright and looked up to see Timothy York's awake and serene face.
