Half past ten, and the last plate was put away.
On the drive back toward the Hamptons, the silence in the car had shifted. Not empty—no, it was thick now. It pressed against the windows, filled every corner.
He stood by the window, close to her, but neither spoke. Flickers of streetlight played over his skin, quick pulses like a slow blink—bright, dark, bright again.
That bow tie by now had slipped down, resting uneven along his shirtfront. Not tight anymore.
A single c***k in what had been flawless.
The laughter faded, leaving stillness behind.
One misstep, where everything else had shone.
Outside, the world blurred into streaks of gray.
Cold crept in from the windowpane, sharp and sudden.
Her fingers gathered the soft fabric closer, slow, deliberate.
The train moved on.
And th
