Rose’s Point of View;
The car ride home was quiet. Not awkward or too quiet, I would say it was just comfortable. The kind of silence that felt safe, like we were both quietly reflecting on how far we had come. I sat in the passenger seat, watching the city pass by while Alexander drove with one hand on the wheel and the other gently resting over mine. His fingers occasionally gave mine a small squeeze, like he was reminding me he was still there. Not that I needed the reminder.
He didn’t say much when we pulled up to my apartment, he just killed the engine and got out like it was a normal thing, like billionaires helped their girlfriends carry luggage up three flights of stairs all the time.
I didn’t stop him. Mostly because I liked the way it felt to walk beside him in the place that
