Dahlia.
The night was silent and cold, like the universe had accidentally left the freezer door open. This was the first time my husband and I were riding in the same car—our first date, if you could call an eerie midnight drive that. As he turned the wheel, I caught myself staring at him. He was ridiculously handsome, and watching his muscles flex as he maneuvered the car was like a free front-row seat to a live action movie. Who knew turning a wheel could look this... scandalous?
We were both dressed in black, like a couple auditioning for a funeral-themed fashion show. I wore a simple black dress with doll shoes because, apparently, my husband thought heels were too rebellious for the occasion. He had personally picked out my clothes, which was equal parts sweet and infuriating.
