The car ride to Alexander's house feels like stepping into the eye of a storm. The events of the morning swirl around me—words spoken, vows exchanged, and the quiet, inescapable weight of the ring now circling my finger. My fingers brush against it absentmindedly, the cool metal foreign and heavy. Outside the window, gray streets streak past, a blur of city life that seems so far removed from what I just experienced.
Alexander is silent in the driver's seat. His hands rest lightly on the steering wheel, his posture relaxed, but his stillness feels deceptive. There's an intensity to him, an energy that fills the car despite the quiet hum of the engine. He doesn't speak, and I don't force conversation either. My thoughts are a tangle, and I'm not sure where to start unraveling them.
