SAY PLEASE.

XIMENA.

The ride home was more than torture. Neither of us said a word to each other, but the silence wasn't peaceful. It was heavy and suffocating and filled with tension so thick, it made it hard for me to breathe.

Every few seconds, I caught him glancing at me. His jaw clenched, veins standing out against his neck, like he was fighting something beneath— himself, maybe. I didn’t care. Or at least, I convinced myself that I didn’t.

When the car finally stopped, Jason ...