Chapter 166 Lilian Baker

Chapter 166 Lilian Baker
I didn't know how long I stayed in Andrew's arms. I just knew his hand continued to move slowly up and down my back in the same comforting rhythm.

Outside, the rain continued to pour. Inside the car, all I could hear was the quiet hum of the engine and Andrew's calm breathing.

For the first time since the storm had started, I felt safe. That realization alone made my chest tighten for an entirely different reason.

Eventually, the rain softened. The loud drumming on the roof became scattered drops. The windshield slowly cleared as the wipers continued their steady motion.

Andrew didn't immediately pull away. Instead, he lowered his hand from my shoulder and asked softly,

"Are you feeling any better?"

I nodded against his chest. "A little."

His voice remained gentle. "Take your time."

I closed my eyes for another moment before finally gathering enough courage to lean back. The moment I did, embarrassment crashed over me.

I just realized I had practically climbed into his lap.

"I..." I quickly climbed off him. "I'm sorry."

Instantly, a frown appeared on his face.

"For what?"

"For..." I gestured awkwardly between us. “This.”

"There wasn't an option,” he said.

"No,” I replied quietly.

"You were scared."

"And that wasted your time,” I countered calmly. "We're supposed to be getting something from your aunt. I made you stop because of my stupid fear. And we've probably delayed everything.”

Andrew looked at me as if I'd said something ridiculous.

"Lily."

"Hm?"

"Look at me."

I hesitated before meeting his eyes.

“Nothing is stupid about what happened,” he said quietly.

“But…”

“You're breathing again,” he continued calmly. "That's what matters."

I stared at him, completely stunned.

"The errand can wait," he added.

"But I still feel bad."

"I don't,” his answer came so quickly that it surprised me. "I'd rather arrive late than pretend nothing was wrong."

The guilt in my chest eased slightly.

"Thank you."

He offered a small smile. "You don't have to thank me. You would've done the same."

I knew I would have done the same.

But somehow it felt different hearing him say it so casually. Helping me had never been an inconvenience to him. As if stopping the trip had been the obvious choice.

"Can I ask you something?" he asked.

I nodded.

"What happened?"

"I..."

The words felt heavier than they should have.

"It's embarrassing."

"It doesn't have to be."

"It started a few years ago."

He remained silent, giving me space.

"There was this group of seniors in my former school. They'd just finished classes one raining afternoon and they decided to drive home together."

Going back to that time made my stomach twist.

“The rain was so heavy like this one. They thought it would be fun. But it wasn't.”

My voice became quieter.

"A truck lost control… there was another car… Everything happened so quickly."

I stared through the windshield without really seeing it anymore.

"I wasn't there, but… the whole school talked about it. And I knew some of them. My classmates kept talking about how terrifying it had been."

I rubbed my palms together.

"So I started imagining it whenever it rained. The sound, the truck, and the crash.”

Andrew listened without interrupting.

"I know it sounds silly."

"It doesn't,” he said quickly.

"I wasn't even in the accident."

"You don't have to be."

I looked at him.

He rested one arm on the steering wheel as he continued, "Trauma doesn't always come from what happens to us. "Sometimes, it comes from what we believe could happen to us."

"I've never thought about it like that."

He nodded.

"Your brain associates heavy rain with danger. It thinks it's protecting you. But, it's actually protecting you from something that already ended."

His words settled somewhere deep inside me.

"I don't know how to stop it."

"You won't stop it overnight,” his voice remained calm. "But you have to fight it."

"Fight it?"

"If you don't..." He looked toward the rain-soaked road. "It'll consume you."

I nodded even if I didn't get it completely.

"I don't mean you should force yourself into dangerous situations,” he quickly added. "I mean don't let fear become the one making your decisions."

I looked out the window. The sky was still dark, but the worst of the rain was over.

"I've been letting it get to me for too long,” I admitted quietly.

"I know,” he smiled gently. "But recognizing it is the first step."

"Since when did you become a therapist?"

He laughed softly.

"I'm not."

"You sound like one."

"I coach teenagers."

That made me laugh.

The heaviness inside the car lifted slightly.

Andrew started the engine properly again and adjusted his mirrors.

"Ready?"

I nodded. "Ready."

The rest of the journey passed much more quietly. Not because the silence was uncomfortable. But because neither of us felt the need to disturb it.

The storm had washed the roads clean. Streetlights reflected across the wet pavement like scattered gold.

The further we drove, the fewer houses we saw. Soon, trees surrounded both sides of the road. And the city lights disappeared behind us.

"This really is the outskirts,” I murmured.

Andrew nodded. "My aunt likes the quiet."

"I think I'd be scared living out here."

"You'd get used to it."

"I'm not convinced."

He chuckled. "You're just saying that now."

A few minutes later, he turned onto a gravel driveway.

A modest two-storey house came into view. Warm yellow lights glowed through the windows. Compared to the darkness surrounding it, the house looked inviting.

Andrew parked the car.

"We're here."

I stepped out beside him.

As we approached the entrance, the cool evening air carried the fresh scent of rain and wet earth.

Andrew knocked on the front door.

Within moments, it opened.

A middle-aged man with kind eyes smiled warmly.

"Andrew!" He called before pulling him into a brief hug. "It's been too long."

"It has,” Andrew smiled.

The man noticed me standing behind him.

"And who do we have here?"

"This is Lily,” Andrew introduced.

The man smiled warmly at me. "It's nice to meet you."

"You too, sir."

A little girl, perhaps six or seven years old, peeked from behind his leg.

She looked at me curiously before hiding again.

I smiled and she smiled back shyly.

"So..." Andrew asked. "Is Aunty Sabrina around?"

The man's smile faded slightly.

"Not yet."

Andrew frowned. "I thought she'd be home."

"So did I."

He looked toward the dark road outside.

"The storm probably delayed her."

I glanced outside too.

The road was almost completely swallowed by darkness now. Not a single passing headlight. Not another house in sight. Just endless trees.

"You might as well come inside,” the man said. “There's no point standing out here."

Andrew nodded. "Thanks man."

As I stepped into the warm house, I looked back through the open door one last time.

The darkness beyond the porch somehow felt deeper than before.

I just knew within myself that we weren't leaving anytime soon. Whatever the storm had interrupted, it wasn't finished with us yet.

And somehow, I had the unsettling feeling that being stranded here might add to the tension burning between Andrew and I.