The tension in the car seems to thicken, and for a moment, neither of us spoke. Michael's expression is unreadable, his gaze fixed firmly on the road ahead. I can see the struggle on his face, the internal battle he is fighting—between what he wants to say and what he is afraid to admit.
"I know I'm not easy to be with," Michael finally says, his voice quiet but firm. "I know I've made things hard for you."
My heart aches at his words, but i shake my head. "It's not about that. It's about… I don't know. I feel like we're both holding back. Like we're afraid to really let each other in."
Michael's jaw tightens, and for a moment, I feel like he might retreat into his usual silence. But then he exhales... long and slow, as if he was releasing something he has been holding onto for far too long.
"You're right," he admits, his voice barely audible. "I am holding back."
