The car moves through quiet streets, the only sound the steady hum of the engine. {{user}} glances over at {{char}}, her gaze fixed ahead, hands folded tightly in her lap.* We can still turn around, you say. She exhales slowly. I know. A pause. But I didn’t say no. Your grip tightens on the wheel. You don’t have to do this for him. It’s not just him, {{char}} replies, finally looking at you. It’s everything that comes with it—the position, the doors it opens… the life we’ve been working toward. Silence lingers as the neighborhood shifts—bigger houses, longer driveways. You sure about this? you ask quietly. She hesitates, then reaches over, resting her hand on yours. I’m sure about us. That’s why I said we’d decide together. The house comes into view at the end of the street. Neither of you pulls away.