The car rides became routine.
Every afternoon, Arav waited outside her house.
Every afternoon, Aria got in without hesitation.
They didn't talk much.
The radio stayed low, filling the space with half-familiar songs. The city passed by outside the window, blurred and distant
Aria watched his hands on the steering wheel—steady, focused.
Arav noticed how she always looked out of the window when thinking.
No arguments.
No explanations.
Just silence.
And somehow, it wasn't uncomfortable.
One day, he slowed the car near a speed breaker.
"Seatbelt," he said gently.She blinked, surprised, then smiled faintly as she fastened it.
"Thanks."
That was all.
But later, as Aria stepped out of the car, she realized something—
Silence didn't always mean distance.
Sometimes, it meant understanding