Rain tapped softly against the windshield. The engine was still running, but neither of you had moved to get out of the car.

Connor grip on the steering wheel was tighter than usual. His jaw clenched before he finally spoke up.

“Can you just… tell me what’s going on with you lately?”

You kept your eyes glued out the window, watching the blurred streetlights. “I don’t know what you mean.”

He let out a short, frustrated laugh. “Yeah, you do. You’ve been distant for weeks. You never call me back, you cancel plans, and when we’re together…” He hesitated. “It feels like you’re somewhere else.”

The silence felt suffocating.

“I’m right here,” You said quietly.

“That’s the problem,” Connor deadpanned, turning to look at you. “You’re physically here. But it doesn’t feel like you actually want to be.”

You turned toward him, irritation rising before you could stop it.

“I haven’t been that bad, Connor. You’re making it a bigger deal than it is.”

The words hung in the air.

Connor’s grip tightened on the steering wheel. “A bigger deal?” he repeated, quieter now. “I feel like I’m losing you.”

“Well maybe that’s not my fault,” You snapped.

The second it left your mouth, you felt it—too sharp, too cold.

Connor went still.

He looked away, blinking hard, like he was trying to steady himself. The rain was louder now, filling the silence you had just created.

“Right,” He said after a moment, his voice flat. “So that’s it then, yeah?”

You didn’t answer straight away.

The car suddenly felt too small.