Heather
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The car ride home is unbearable.

Javis is next to me in the passenger seat, one hand lazily resting on my thigh like it's supposed to be there. I'm trying to get used to this, constantly having a warm hand on my skin all the damn time.

I stare out the window, pretending it's not there. Pretending I'm fine. Pretending I don't feel Robin's eyes on me.

Because she's watching.

Through the rearview mirror, she keeps catching my gaze, holding it just long enough to make my pulse stutter and my skin prickle.

I tell myself it's just my imagination. That she's focused on the road, not on me. But then it happens again-her eyes flick up, meet mine, and stay there.

Longer this time.

Long enough that my breath catches.

Long enough that I have to look away first.

The air in the car is thick, heavy even, like we've been trapped in a pressure cooker set to explode. I swear it's hotter than it was before we left, the heat pressing in from all sides, suffocating in a way that has nothing to do with the temperature.

I shift in my seat, my skin sticking to the leather, and roll the window down slightly, hoping the cool breeze will do something-anything-to help.

It brushes against my face, ruffling a few loose strands of my hair, but it does nothing to chase away the tension coiling tight in my chest.

Because no amount of fresh air can fix this.

Not when Robin keeps meeting my eyes like she's daring me to say something. Like she's waiting for me to crack.

Javis shifts beside me, squeezing my leg. "You okay, babe?"

No.

Why the fuck do you keep asking that?

I nod. "Yeah. Just tired."

Lies.

Robin doesn't say a word, but I can feel the smirk she's probably wearing. Like she knows exactly what she's doing. Like she enjoys pushing me out of character.

And I hate that it's working.

The rest of the ride is silent, save for the occasional hum of the engine and Javis checking his phone, his fingers tapping absently against the screen. Every so often, he sighs like he's exhausted from all the nothing he's been doing, but he doesn't bother filling the silence. He doesn't seem to notice it at all.

I, on the other hand, can feel every second of it stretching tight between us, thick and unbearable. The only sound louder than the engine is the rush of blood in my ears.

I keep my eyes on the scenery flashing by, watching the winding roads, the golden fields, the occasional blur of a vineyard, focusing on anything but the heat in my cheeks, the tightness in my chest, the way my skin prickles under Robin's lingering gaze.

By the time we pull into the driveway, my nerves are frayed.

Robin parks, cuts the engine, and without so much as a glance in my direction, she throws the keys onto the table inside and disappears upstairs.

Like she didn't just spend the last thirty minutes making my life hell.

Like she didn't just look at me like that and I'm the only one losing my mind here.

I exhale sharply, dragging my fingers through my hair before I even step inside.

Unfortunately, peace isn't an option.

The moment I step inside, the air shifts. My mother, Javis's mom, and my father are already settled in the living room, waiting, expectant. The way they turn to me the second I walk in makes it clear they've been anticipating this moment, hanging onto the idea of a perfect wedding in the making.

"Did you find a venue?" Mom asks eagerly, practically buzzing with excitement. Her hands clasp together like she's already envisioning floral arrangements and seating charts.

Javis, ever the perfect fiancé, doesn't miss a beat. He nods enthusiastically, his voice smooth and confident, like he's been preparing for this answer all day.

"Yeah, there's this beautiful garden. Private, great space for an outdoor setup-romantic, intimate, perfect."

His mother lets out a delighted sigh, already imagining the picturesque scene, no doubt thinking about how great it will look in photos. My father nods in approval, while my mother claps her hands together, thrilled beyond reason.

My stomach turns.

I nod along like I care. Like I don't feel Robin's eyes still lingering on my skin from earlier in the car.

Javis's mother, Leticia, is grinning like she's already planning the entire wedding herself.

"That sounds divine! We'll have to secure it immediately."

My mother laughs a little too loudly, her tone syrupy sweet. "Oh, Leticia, your taste is impeccable. I trust this place will be amazing."

I fight the urge to roll my eyes.

She's practically kissing ass. Like we don't have money. Like we aren't just as capable of throwing an extravagant wedding without needing to bow to Javis's family's influence. It's almost embarrassing, the way she leans in, nodding eagerly at everything his mother says, as if securing their approval is the ultimate prize. As if we should be grateful they're allowing us to be part of their world, instead of the other way around.

But that's why I'm here, doing all this crap, isn't it?

Playing the perfect daughter, the perfect fiancée, nodding along like this is exactly what I've always wanted. Not for love. Not for romance.

But for the future-the next two generations down my line, for them to have the financial security, the stability, the name, the connections.

To maintain our high status, to ensure that no matter what happens, our family stays at the top.

That's what I keep telling myself, anyway. That's the justification. The reason I bite my tongue when Javis talks about the wedding like it's some fairy tale, when my mother beams like this is going to be the happiest day of her life, when his mother barely hides her satisfaction that her son is marrying someone so... appropriate.

And yet, no matter how many times I remind myself why I'm doing this, my stomach still knots, my skin still itches, and every time I think about Robin I feel like I'm walking straight into a trap of my own making.

Whatever.

I tune out the rest of the conversation, only nodding when necessary, only speaking when prompted. Javis's fingers brush over my knuckles, and I don't flinch, don't pull away, even though I want to.

I make it ten more minutes before I can't take it anymore.

"I'm gonna freshen up," I say, already moving before anyone can respond.

My mother barely acknowledges it, too busy agreeing with Leticia about floral arrangements or guest lists or whatever the hell else they're rambling about.

I climb the stairs slowly, my breath shallow, my hands clenched at my sides.

Robin's room is just across the hall.

I stop outside my own door, fingers curling around the handle, and fight the overwhelming urge to go to hers instead.

To knock. To storm in. To demand kiss her and pray she forgets my confession from earlier. I thought she wanted to jeopardize this for me but I'm effortlessly telling on myself. Exposing myself.

And Robin is smart, she will need answers, she won't stop until she gets them and when she does, who knows what she's going to do?

I slip inside my room and close the door behind me, pressing my forehead against the cool wood, trying to steady my heartbeat.

Trying to ignore the fact that for the past hour, the only thing I've wanted is to be anywhere but here.

Anywhere but beside Javis.

Anywhere with her annoyingly sexy ass.