"What happened?" Ethan asked Esmeralda. They were returning home, and he noticed how she kept staring out of the window, clearly troubled. He wondered if she would like to talk about her worries. Usually, she was an open book but she liked to hide her pains inside her.
"Would you accompany me for a drink?" Esmeralda asked suddenly. The air in the car felt suffocating. Everything had been fine initially—they had shared so much with each other, both vulnerable and open. But now, the weight of having exposed the deepest parts of her heart was crashing down on her. She couldn't bring herself to look at him. It wasn't fear of judgment; it was something else, something she couldn't quite put into words.
