A Frozen Man's Sun

Chapter 12

Chapter 12

The low hum of the engine filled the silence between us as I pulled out of the church parking lot. My grip on the wheel was tight enough to whiten my knuckles, but Eral didn't seem to notice. Or maybe she did and just didn't care.

She scrolled through her camera, grinning to herself. Every so often she'd let out a small "hm" or "ah," like she was reliving the wedding through her photos.

"You know," she finally said, turning the camera toward me, "you'd look better in a tux. Black and white, hair slicked back, maybe a smirk for the camera."

I kept my eyes on the road. "I don't wear tuxedos."

"You don't, or you don't want to?" she teased.

"Both."

She laughed softly, that melodic sound irritatingly warm. "Figures. You'd probably glare at the photographer anyway. Poor guy wouldn't know if he should keep shooting or run for his life."

"Smart man would run."

Her laughter grew louder. "You're impossible, Ice."

I didn't answer. My gaze stayed locked on the road, but every word she said was pulling me further from the storm still raging in my chest.

After a few minutes of silence, Eral's tone shifted. Softer. Curious. "Hey... you never told me. Why did you look like that in the church? Like you were watching someone you wanted dead."

My jaw tightened. The ghost of a veil flickered in my mind, and I pressed harder on the gas. "You're imagining things."

"No, I'm not." She leaned closer, peering at me. "I've known you long enough to recognize when you're not being honest. You were staring at the bride, weren't you?"

I glanced at her briefly, my glare enough to warn her off. But she didn't back down.

"You knew her." It wasn't a question.

I exhaled sharply through my nose. "Drop it, Eral."

But she was stubborn. "Who was she to you?"

My hands tightened on the wheel. "Someone I buried years ago."

"Buried?" she echoed, her brows furrowing.

"Yes." My voice was flat. Cold. "And graves aren't meant to be dug up."

She bit her lip, as if deciding whether to push further. Then, quietly, "She hurt you, didn't she?"

The words pierced sharper than I expected. My throat constricted, but I forced a smirk to my lips. "Doesn't matter. People are temporary. The sooner you learn that, the less it stings when they leave."

Eral didn't laugh this time. Her gaze lingered on me, searching, almost tender. "You say that, but you're lying to yourself."

I shot her a look, a warning. "Careful, sweetheart."

But she only smiled faintly, almost sadly. "Cold on the outside, burning inside. That's you, Ice."

Her words lingered in the air, heavy and uninvited. I hated how close she'd gotten in just a few sentences. She shouldn't know me that well. No one should.

The rest of the drive fell quiet. She stopped pressing, maybe out of respect, maybe out of fear of pushing me too far.

But her silence wasn't empty. It was watchful. Warm. And I hated-really hated-how much I noticed it.

"Ice, thank you so much for driving me to the church, and right now... for driving me home." Eral's voice cut into the hum of the engine.

I didn't look at her. My eyes stayed pinned on the road. I only gave a small nod, not bothering with words.