The car hummed softly as they drove down the nearly empty road, the sun casting golden beams across the windshield. Teresa stared out the window, arms crossed tightly, counting each street sign they passed, hoping that each one might bring them closer to the mall. Beside her, Andrea's silence weighed heavily, tense as a coiled spring.
Andrea's jaw was set as he gripped the wheel, and yet, despite himself, his gaze kept drifting sideways. He didn't want to look at her; in fact, he'd have preferred to ignore her entirely. But something about the sunlight catching on her skin, illuminating her with a soft warmth, kept drawing his attention back to her, as though pulled by some unyielding force.
He caught a glimpse of her reflection in the window. The way the light traced the curve of her cheek, the faint movement of her lashes as she blinked—all of it reminded him far too vividly of someone he'd tried to forget. She looked so much like her, that he had to clench his teeth to stop himself from glaring.
It didn't help that his mother had all but forced him into this situation, her voice echoing in his mind: "Andrea, you need to make peace with her. She's done nothing to deserve your anger."
But his mother didn't understand. She didn't understand how just looking at Teresa filled him with a confusing, maddening blend of anger and… something else he refused to name.
Another glance, another flash of familiarity, and he felt his jaw tighten. Teresa wasn't like his ex—not at all, really. She was quieter, softer. And yet, the way she looked at him sometimes, with that guarded expression, stirred memories he'd buried long ago.
"Could you at least try not to glare at me?" Teresa's voice was quiet but sharp, breaking through his thoughts. Her eyes remained fixed on the road ahead, but her discomfort was clear in the slight edge to her words.
He scoffed. "I'm not glaring."
"Then maybe that's just your face," she muttered, folding her arms tighter.
A small, begrudging smile tugged at his lips before he caught himself. What are you doing? he thought, his fingers tightening on the wheel. This wasn't supposed to be a friendly outing; he wasn't supposed to like her. And yet, he couldn't shake the nagging thought that maybe—just maybe—he'd misjudged her.
But he wouldn't admit it. Not yet. Not now.
Suddenly, the car hit a rough patch on the road, jolting them both. Teresa's hand flew to the door handle, gripping it tightly. A flash of worry crossed her face, and Andrea felt an unexpected urge to reassure her.
"Relax," he muttered, his tone softer than before. "I'm not going to let anything happen."
She shot him a wary glance, her eyes lingering on his face as though searching for any sign of sincerity. For a brief moment, he thought she might say something—something that could finally break the silence, shatter the wall that had stood between them since they met. But then she looked away, her jaw tightening as she returned to her silent vigil.
------------
The car's silence stretched like a taut wire, brittle and ready to snap. Andrea's knuckles were white on the steering wheel, his jaw clenched as he stole another sidelong glance at Teresa. The more he looked at her, the harder it was to focus on the road. The way her hair caught the light, the shape of her chin, the curve of her lips—it was too close to a face he wished he could forget. With every stolen glance, memories crept in, unwanted and raw.
He hadn't thought of his ex in months, and he'd been perfectly fine with that. Yet here was Teresa, an uninvited reminder, poking at wounds he thought had healed.
Beside him, Teresa shifted, her shoulders stiff as she stared out the window. She was all but holding her breath, and Andrea could feel the tension radiating from her. Her discomfort only seemed to fuel his irritation. Why had his mother insisted on sending them together?
"Can you stop glaring at me and focus on the road, please?" Teresa's voice cut through the silence, shaky but firm.
Andrea turned, his gaze sharp and piercing, a disgusted look flashing across his face. "I'm not glaring, bitch," he said without a second thought, the venom slipping out before he even realized it. The word hung in the air, ugly and heavy, and immediately he felt a pang of regret—but he wouldn't let it show.
Teresa's eyes widened, her face paling as she absorbed the insult. "Stop the car," she said, her voice unsteady but laced with resolve.
"Why?"
"Stop the car!" she demanded, louder this time, the pitch of her voice laced with panic. "I can't do this anymore."
Andrea's grip on the wheel tightened, anger surging up as he pressed his foot down harder on the gas. "What do you mean?" he snapped back, his voice rough with frustration. "We're almost there. Stop being so dramatic."
But Teresa wasn't listening. She reached for the handle, desperately tugging, her gaze darting between him and the locked door. Panic filled her face, and she thrashed against the seatbelt, struggling to free herself. "Let me out," she stammered, her voice breaking, her eyes filling with tears.
"Calm down." Andrea's voice dropped, low and warning. "If you don't sit still right now, you're going to make me lose my temper. And trust me—you wouldn't like that."
She looked up at him, terror flashing in her eyes, her hands trembling as she struggled to breathe through her panic. He felt his anger reach a boiling point, frustration clouding his judgment as he yanked the wheel to the side, pulling the car off to the shoulder.
In an instant, Andrea leaned over, grabbing her by the neck, his fingers pressing into her skin. "Shut up," he growled, his voice seething with anger, his eyes boring into hers with a rage that scared even him.
Teresa's breath came in ragged gasps, her eyes wide with fear, tears streaming down her cheeks as she struggled against his grip. "I… I'm s-sorry," she choked out, her voice barely audible.
It was her tears that pulled him back to reality. The sight of them, glistening trails down her cheeks, took the fight right out of him. Slowly, reluctantly, he released her, watching as she crumpled in her seat, trembling and clutching at her throat, her hands shaking violently. Andrea felt a cold wave of shame wash over him, a heavy weight settling in his chest. He'd never meant for it to go this far.
He cleared his throat, trying to keep his voice steady. "Look, I… I'm sorry," he mumbled, his eyes darting away. "You shouldn't have made me lose my temper like that… Just calm down, okay?"
But Teresa didn't respond. She sat there, her face pale, eyes fixed on the road ahead as she wiped her tears with shaky hands, silent and unyielding.
Andrea glanced at her, guilt gnawing at him. He couldn't shake the sight of her face, the fear in her eyes, the trembling in her voice. What kind of person had he become? A knot formed in his stomach as he realized he'd let his bitterness drive him too far.
"Look, I'm sorry, alright?" he said, the words tasting bitter. "Please… don't tell my mom about this. I didn't mean it."
Teresa turned to him, her gaze cold, but the fear was still there, a vulnerability in her eyes that only deepened his shame. She didn't say a word, her lips pressed tightly together.
Andrea swallowed, feeling more helpless than he'd felt in a long time. "I promise I'll make it up to you. I'll buy you whatever you want at the mall. Anything," he said, his voice low, almost pleading.
For a moment, Teresa looked at him, something unreadable in her eyes. Slowly, she nodded, her face still expressionless, her gaze unyielding. She seemed to be weighing his offer, considering the practical value of it, as if trying to decide whether his apology was worth the trouble.
With a sigh, he started the car again, the silence between them now heavier than ever. Teresa's hands remained folded tightly in her lap, her eyes trained forward, her expression unreadable as they resumed their journey.
As he drove, Andrea couldn't shake the sinking feeling in his chest, a hollow emptiness that filled him with self-loathing. He'd messed up, and he knew it. His mother's voice echoed in his mind, urging him to make peace, to be better. But he'd only managed to dig himself deeper, pushing Teresa further away.
For the rest of the drive, Andrea kept his eyes on the road, too ashamed to even glance at her. The mall lights eventually came into view, but the tension in the car lingered, unbroken and unresolved.