Unspoken Confession

Atlas didn’t come back for several minutes. He stayed outside, lighting a cigarette and smoking without once turning to look at me or speaking. I sat frozen in place, the weight of my embarrassment crushing me. When he finally returned, he got in the car and slammed the door shut, starting the engine with a tense determination. We both pretended nothing had happened, but the silence between us was heavy and suffocating.

The tension was palpable, and neither of us dared to break it. Atlas drove fast, and I clutched my seat in the passenger's side, hoping we'd make it home in one piece. When the car screeched to a halt in front of the house, I finally dared to look at him. His face was a mask of anger, his jaw clenched and eyes narrowed. He looked like a ticking bomb, ready to explode. At that moment, I was genuinely afraid of him.

I wanted to apologize, but I feared that even opening my mouth would set him off. So, I kept quiet. Without waiting for me, Atlas threw open his door, slamme