Pole Position: Between Logic and Passion

I slammed the car door shut harder than I meant to, the sharp thud echoing louder than expected. Charles had barely gotten in on the other side before I was already pressing the ignition, the engine of the brand-new Ferrari purring to life beneath us. I didn't look at him. I didn't say a word. I just pulled out of the marina lot, tires screeching faintly against the asphalt.

I wasn't thinking about speed limits. Or curves. Or the fact that the sun had already dipped below the horizon, leaving streaks of pink and orange behind us. I just wanted to move. To outrun the tension that still sat like broken glass beneath my skin.

Beside me, Charles shifted in his seat, his voice careful. "Amy... maybe I should drive?"

"No."

He waited a beat. "You're going really fast."

"I'm aware," I snapped, eyes locked on the road.

The silence after that was thick. He didn't press again. But I could feel his eyes on me. Studying me. Waiting. Probably wondering how long before I cracked.

I wasn't going to cry again.

I gripped the wheel tighter, knuckles white, pulse roaring in my ears. Everything was still burning under my skin-Kate's words, her tone, the way she'd twisted everything I'd done into something cruel.

Charles cleared his throat softly. "That... wasn't how I thought today would end."

I saw his jaw tighten from the corner of my eye, but he stayed calm. "Do you want to talk about it?"

"No."

"Amy..."

"What?" I snapped, finally looking at him. "What do you want me to say? That it was humiliating? That I spent months tracking down something meaningful to give you and she turned it into a fucking price tag?"

His expression softened, but I didn't give him time to speak.

"She does this every time," I continued bitterly. "Every single time I try to have something good, Kate finds a way to twist it. To make me small. To make me feel like I'm some desperate charity case clinging to a relationship for scraps of affection."

Charles didn't answer right away. Just watched me, quiet and unreadable.

"I just wanted to do something right for once," I added, my voice lower now, more bitter than angry. "And somehow, even that got turned into a mistake."

We took a corner too fast. He held onto the handle near the roof but didn't say anything. Not about the speed. Not about my driving. Just sat there and took it.

Then-gently-he said, "Amy... how much did that watch actually cost?"

I stared ahead, jaw tight.

Silence.

"Does it matter now?"

"It matters to me," he said softly.

I shook my head, biting the inside of my cheek to stop it from trembling. "It was mine money to use."

"That's not the point," he said, his tone firmer now. "Amy, I know you. I know how much you work. I know how hard you've fought to have the little stability you do. And you spent it all on something for me."

"Because I wanted to," I snapped, finally turning to look at him. "I wanted to do something that mattered. Something that would mean something to you. And it does, doesn't it? You've barely looked away from the damn thing since I gave it to you."

His lips parted slightly, like he wanted to argue-but then he didn't.

"It means everything to me," he said instead.