They pulled over outside a small hotel a few blocks away from the psychiatric facility.
It looked decent enough for a multimillionaire like him, but Jenson didn't even budge in his seat. He just stared at the dashboard, his gaze blank.
Her chest ached at how he looked stuck in a daze more than anything else. "You okay?" she sighed. Obviously he wasn't, but she just wanted him to talk to her. Sure, she was used to seeing him stressed out—just not in this way.
Intoxicated. Confounded. Quiet. Too quiet.
Why wouldn't he just talk to her? The scenes in her head was already leading her thoughts down a pessimistic road. She really wanted to ask about his mother. To ask if anything happened back in the facility.