Brittany’s POV
The ride to the inauguration ceremony was painfully silent. The low hum of the engine was the only sound that dared to fill the tense space between us. I glanced over at George, seated beside me, his eyes glued to his phone. His brows furrowed in concentration, his thumb scrolling steadily.
I smiled softly, shifting closer to him. With deliberate ease, I brushed my fingers against his hand. Be subtle. Be patient. My voice came out light and playful. "There’s no reason we can’t act a little more like a couple in public, you know."
No reaction.
I held back a sigh, forcing myself to remain calm. Play the long game, Brittany. He’ll come around. He has to.
As we approached the venue, I straightened my posture, every muscle in my body adjusting to project confidence and grace
