The drive back to the house was shrouded in a silence thick with unspoken words. I couldn't shake the memory of Zaya's touch, the almost-kiss, and the intensity in her eyes. It left me reeling, my emotions a tangled web of confusion and yearning.
The night, which had started with laughter and carefree moments, now felt heavy with the weight of possibilities and uncharted territories.
As we pulled up to the house, the sight that greeted us made my heart stop. Carmen was there, standing unsteadily in front of the entrance, her figure outlined by the dim porch light.
Even from a distance, I could see that she was drunk. Her posture was slouched, her usually sharp eyes dulled by the effects of alcohol. The sight filled me with a mixture of anger and concern.