Becoming strangers again (Lily and Ryan)



LILY

Sitting in the back seat, I kept myself occupied by responding to a few messages from Ryan. We chatted for nearly the entire drive until he let me know he had to step into a meeting. With a quick "talk later," I pocketed my phone and shifted my attention forward.

I looked at the driver, feeling a bit curious about him. "Clover, right?" I asked, hoping to start a conversation. I've never been one to ride in silence if I can help it, and I could only imagine that driving a stranger around might feel a bit awkward.

He nodded, "Yes, my name is Clover."

I smiled, folding my hands. "That's a pretty unique name. Is there a story behind it?" I asked, genuinely curious. I hadn't come across anyone named Clover before, at least not in my adult life, and I found it refreshing.

He glanced back at me through the rear-view mirror, a small smile on his face. "No story, ma'am. I think my parents just liked the name." He paused, then chuckled softly, as if the idea of his parents choosing it on a whim amused him.

"Something funny?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

He nodded, a small grin on his face. "Yeah. I was in New York last week, and someone else thought my name was strange and unique, too." "Oh..." I smiled. "So I'm not the only one, then. Still, it's a nice name."

He murmured a quick thanks, and the conversation trailed off. For the rest of the drive, silence took over, but it was a tense silence, made worse by the glances he kept sneaking at me through the rear-view mirror.

After a few minutes, I'd had enough. The next time his eyes met mine in the mirror, I shot him a sharp look. "Do you have something you want to say to me?"

He looked startled, quickly diverting his gaze and clearing his throat. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, ma'am," he stammered. "I didn't mean anything by it."

I leaned forward slightly. "I don't need an apology. I just want to know why you keep looking at me like that. If there's something on your mind, spit it out."

He hesitated, swallowing nervously before speaking. "Well, actually... I was hoping I could make a quick stop at a store, just right on our path."

I raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "Excuse me? Did I hear that right?"

He cleared his throat, looking slightly uneasy. "I just want to pick up something from a friend, that's all."

I stared at him, barely hiding my disbelief. Was he serious? "So, let me get this straight. You want me to let you, make a detour and stop somewhere unfamiliar, just so you can pick up something?"

He shook his head quickly. "No, no," he said, stumbling over his words. "I promise, we're not going off route. The store's right along our path, and she'll be waiting by the roadside. I won't even need to step out of the car. I swear, it'll just be a quick stop.

I glanced at my watch, calculating how much time was left before the school day officially ended. "You have less than three minutes," I said firmly. "You're not changing directions, you're not getting out of the car, and just so we're clear, I have 911 already typed out on my phone. If you try anything anything at all-I'll call them in a heartbeat."

He nodded, looking both nervous and relieved. "Yes, ma'am," he agreed with a nod, his tone grateful. "And thank you for letting me pick it up.”

We continued the drive in silence for the next five minutes. While he seemed to settle back into a relaxed state, I couldn't say the same for myself. I stayed alert, keeping my eyes on him and watching for any hint of strange behavior. Every glance he threw toward the rear-view mirror, every subtle movement of his hands on the wheel-I noted it all.

A few minutes later, he pulled over to the side of the road, just as he'd said he would. There, a young woman, who I'd noticed waiting by the roadside, hurried over to his window.

Clover rolled down his window, accepted the bag with a quiet thank you, and immediately continued driving. But my eyes were glued to that bag. After a moment, I made up my mind. "Open the bag," I instructed.

He blinked, his eyes flicking up to meet mine in the rear-view mirror, confusion etched across his face. "Ma'am?"

"I said, open the brown bag," I repeated. "I need to make sure you're not transporting me and... whatever that is, in the same car. For all I know, that could be drugs or something illegal."

Clover's face paled, and he held up his hands slightly as if to calm me. "I promise, ma'am, it's nothing illegal. Just some personal items. I didn't mean to make you suspicious."

"Then you won't mind opening it," I replied, my gaze unflinching.

He chuckled lightly. "I promise, ma'am, I'm not transporting drugs." To prove his point, he pulled over to the side of the road again, picked up the bag and carefully tore it open. Reaching inside, he pulled out a bottle of perfume, holding it up for me to see. Then he crumpled the bag to show it was empty before offering the perfume to me.

I waved a hand, declining. "It's fine, I don't need to touch it."

He nodded, placing the bottle on the passenger seat before smoothly pulling back onto the road.

*****

At last, we arrived at the school, but before I left, I knew I owed him something. Taking a deep breath, I looked over at him. “I want to apologize,” I said. "For assuming you were carrying something illegal."

He shook his head, brushing it off with a warm smile. "No need to apologize, ma'am. You were just being cautious, and I admire that."

I nodded, feeling a bit lighter after his response. "Right. I'll be back shortly." With that, I stepped out, grateful for his understanding.

Picking up Liam and Noah, I couldn't help but notice how disheveled they looked. Their hair was messy, their faces pale, and their usual energy seemed drained. Concerned, I immediately tracked down their teachers to find out what had happened.

"They both had a bit of a fever, ma'am," the teacher explained. "They were in the school clinic all day."

My brows furrowed with worry as I quickly reached for Liam's forehead, checking for any sign of fever. "Why didn't anyone call me?" I asked, my voice rising slightly in concern.

The teacher seemed apologetic. "It wasn't that serious, and the fever calmed down really easily."

Still, I wasn't satisfied. “You should have called me," I insisted. “Next time, the moment either of them starts feeling sick, you call me right away." "Yes, ma'am," he replied, nodding in understanding.

I guided the kids back to the car, still feeling a little uneasy, but we resumed our journey home. As we drove, I focused on keeping the boys comfortable, trying to distract them from their discomfort.

Halfway through the drive, Clover cleared his throat, breaking the silence. “So, ma'am,” he said, his voice a bit hesitant. “The perfume... it's actually for sale."

I shifted my gaze from Ethan, who had been lying quietly on my chest since we got into the car. "I beg your pardon?" I asked, not sure I had heard him correctly.

He glanced at me nervously, then

et

spoke up again. "The plan is to open a perfume line, and I'm already working on it with my team. We've produced a sample, and I've already given one to Mr. Amell. I'd like to offer you this one for sampling."

He reached for the perfume bottle on the passenger seat and handed it over to me. Impressed by his ambition, I observed the packaging. "I may not

be into marketing, but I think the container could use a different design," I noted.

"Mr. Amell mentioned the same thing," he replied, his tone relieved that I hadn't been critical.

Curious, I opened the cap, sprayed a little on my wrist, and inhaled deeply. "The scent isn't bad," I complimented, genuinely impressed.

He smiled, looking pleased. "Thank you, ma'am."

"So, I'm going to use it for a while," I said, slipping the perfume into my bag. "If I like it, I'll recommend it to my husband and my best friend, and I'll put

in a good word for you, too."

"Thank you so much, ma'am."

I nodded, turning my attention back

to Ethan as we continued the drive. But as time passed, I started to feet an overwhelming drowsiness creeping over me. At first, I tried to over me. At

IContent rights belong to NôvelDrama.Org.

fight it, telling myself to stay awake,

but it became harder with each passing minute.

Something doesn't feel right.

I shook my head, trying to clear the fogginess. Something was off. I was sure it wasn't just exhaustion from the day but something else.

Without wasting another moment, I tapped the pre-typed 911 number on my phone and before I could even go further, sleep overtook me, and I slipped into a deep, unplanned slumber.