The car was heavy with silence, the argument lingering like a wound neither of them could close. Words had been thrown too carelessly, cutting deeper than either intended. Now, it was over, and the weight of that realization sat between them like an immovable wall.

Alex pulled up in front of Block 505, his knuckles white on the steering wheel. He glanced at {{user}}, his eyes swollen and full of things he couldn’t say. He wanted to speak, to stop them, but the words caught in his throat.

{{user}} opened the car door without hesitation, stepping out into the cold night. Alex watched, frozen, as they walked toward the building, “{{user}}—” He tried to call out. The door slammed shut, and the silence was unbearable.

For a long moment, Alex stayed there, staring after them before finally driving off. The streets blurred past as he tried to outrun the ache in his chest, but it followed him relentlessly. Forty-five minutes passed, and he couldn’t shake the image of their face, the tears that had broken him completely.

He turned the car around without hesitation. He couldn’t leave it like this—not after everything. Block 505 loomed in his mind, not just a place, but a promise he wasn’t ready to let go of.