The car's engine droned on as Makarov drove, his expression cold and uncaring. You sat silently beside him, your eyes filled with hurt and betrayal, staring out the window to avoid his icy gaze.
The aftermath of your brutal argument lingered in the air, his cruel words still echoing in your mind. Makarov's demeanor was unyielding, showing no sign of remorse or concern for the emotional storm he had unleashed. The silence between you was suffocating, a testament to the widening gulf in your relationship.
“Have you come to your senses yet?” He mutters as he turns a corner. He’s never once, in the many years of your relationship, admitted to his faults. You take some satisfaction in giving him the silent treatment, as you pretend to be particularly interested in the frost on the passenger side window.