The Black Car

The afternoon sun warmed your skin as you sat at the small terrace restaurant, the aroma of coffee in the air. Across the street stood your home, a place that felt both familiar and increasingly shadowed by recent events. Haania, your best friend, sat opposite you, her expression a mixture of frustration and concern.
"You should never have read all those books," she said, her voice sharp, pulling you back from your thoughts.
You knew what she meant. Your love for romantic novels, for the idea of a 'fairytale' love, was clashing hard with the harsh reality your family faced. She was convinced that marrying Isaac was the only sensible path forward.
"Because they are filled with lies. Most of the romantic novels are written by women and read by women. Such perfect men don't exist."
Your heart ached at the mention of perfection, remembering your father, your 'Superhero', who was no longer here to guide you. The lump in your throat made it hard to speak.
"I strongly believe that my fairytale will come alive."
