The Silent Drive

The city lights blurred past the car windows, streaking into ribbons of gold, silver, and amber as the tires hummed against the wet asphalt. Rain had begun again, light and persistent, drumming a soft rhythm against the roof, a rhythm that seemed to echo the thrum of tension inside the vehicle. Amara stared out the passenger window, tracing the reflections of neon signs that danced and fractured across the glass. Each flicker reminded her of memories she had tried to lock away, the laughter, the arguments, the closeness she had once taken for granted.

Adrian drove with a steady, almost mechanical precision, his jaw set, fingers tight on the wheel. He was physically calm, but the rigid lines of his posture betrayed the storm beneath. Every so often, his hand would twitch, the muscles in his forearm tightening as though bracing against a force only he could feel. He had spoken so many times in his mind, rehearsing words he would never say, yet the ones that mattered now remained unspoke