A week later, they were on the road again.

The familiar winding roads leading to the cabin felt different this time—not brand new, not unknown, but theirs. Last time, it had been a spontaneous escape, an in-between moment. Now, it was intentional. Chosen.

Melina sat in the passenger seat, one foot propped up on the dashboard, lazily flipping through the playlists on Tucker's phone. The sky outside was a muted gray, the kind that made the world feel quieter. The kind of day that felt like it was meant to be spent wrapped up in blankets, doing nothing at all.

"I feel like we should have, like, a road trip tradition," Tucker said, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel.

Melina glanced at him. "Like what?"

"I don't know. We already have fake names—"

"Sally and Tom," she said, smirking.

"Obviously." He shot her a quick grin. "So maybe, like, a specific song we play every time. Or a snack we always get."

Melina considered it. "Gas station slushies."

Tucker laughed. "That's so specific."

"Exactly. It has to be something dumb that makes no sense."

"Alright, gas station slushies it is."

Fifteen minutes later, they were standing outside a run-down gas station, each holding a too-sweet, artificially colored slushie. Melina's was blue, Tucker's was red. They clinked their cups together like they were toasting to something important.

"To Tom and Sally," Tucker said.

"To Tom and Sally," Melina echoed, before taking a sip. It was way too cold, and she winced.

Tucker laughed. "Brain freeze?"

She groaned, pressing her hand to her forehead. "This was a terrible idea."

He wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pressing a kiss to the side of her head. "You're stuck with me now."

And honestly? She wouldn't have it any other way.





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