The soft hum of the engine filled the car as Gabriel drove down the illuminated highway, returning from Zoe and Arthur’s elegant wedding. The lights of São Paulo slowly faded in the rearview mirror, and the night wrapped around them like a calm blanket after an evening overflowing with emotion.

Ava, seated beside him, held the bouquet she had caught—much to her own surprise—with delicate fingers. The flowers remained intact, vibrant, like a quiet symbol of the chaos now swirling inside her meticulously organized mind. She glanced toward him from time to time.

“The wedding was beautiful, wasn’t it?” Gabriel asked, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Ava kept her eyes on the bouquet as she answered,

“Extremely beautiful. Well executed, well planned, with impressive emotional precision. But still… a wedding.”

Gabriel chuckled.

“Only you would describe a wedding as ‘emotional precision.’ That’s your rational brain trying to survive the emotional impact.”

“I’m not against love, Gabriel. I’m