I seized his wrist and bit down hard, the taste of blood flooding my mouth as I refused to let go. He didn’t stop me. Finally, I released him, breathing heavily.
"Dave, you’re cruel. You were the one who said you loved my simplicity and innocence. Now you’re claiming my mind isn’t deep enough for us to walk together. You just say whatever suits you, don’t you?"
He fell silent, sliding back into the driver’s seat. I was too drained to argue further, so I allowed him to drive.
Half an hour later, the car came to a stop outside my apartment. Before I could open the door, Dave handed me two invitations.
"Which do you think looks better—hot-stamped or solid color?"
His words felt like daggers, slicing through my heart repeatedly until I could barely breathe. I snatched the invitations from his hand and hurled them in his face. The hard cardboard grazed his cheek, leaving a faint red mark.