Page 96 of Sunflower Persona
I thought I could see the light at the end of the tunnel, but it was the train, and reality crashes into me at full fucking speed. There’s nothing more for me than this—an endless cycle of patching new holes while the others still leak.
Fuck.
The gloom makes a full resurgence, my earlier convictions be damned. Its dark shadows entomb me, eclipsing even my sunflower’s golden light. All-consuming pressure grows in my chest as I guide us to the shoulder. It’s like I’m watching myselfmove from a third-person perspective—I’m aware of my actions but not in control.
As we come to a stop, Kori reaches over to shift the gearstick into park. She’s lucky that, in my autopilot state, I remembered to move my foot to the brake. I’m too paralyzed to do anything more than sit here and watch any plans I had for the future drift away with the smoke.
This is what I get for having hope—the universe had to remind me of my place.
She climbs out of the car, but I can’t unlock my muscles to follow her. Maybe if I’m lucky, this piece of shit will actually catch on fire this time and take me out with it.
No.
I can’t be thinking like this while she’s out there waiting on me—relying on me—to get her home safely. Still wrapped in the suffocating tendrils of my despair, I force myself to get out of the car. Kori watches me with worried eyes as she talks to someone on the phone. She doesn’t take her eyes off me as she wraps up the call and circles her arms around me, resting her head against my chest. Normally, I’d cherish the gesture, but right now, her embrace is another thing constricting me.
No matter how hard I try, I’m never going to be good enough for her.
“Who was that?” The question comes out sounding hollow.
“AAA,” she says. “Tow truck is on its way.”
In a flash, the empty pit fills with white-hot anger—undirected, but raging nonetheless.
“Why the fuck would you do that?” I snap.
She flinches back, dropping her arms, and looks at me like I’m a stranger.
Goddamned fucking fuck.
“Because we are stuck on the highway without a working car. What would you have me do?” she snaps right back.
“Call Karis. Nathan. Hell, your dad. Anything but that. Jesus Christ, do you ever stop and think?” I pause and take a deep breath. The last thing she deserves is my anger. “That was uncalled for. I’m sorry, Kori.”
The wariness in her eyes breaks my fucking heart. I swallow against the thick knot in my throat and try again without acting like a complete fucking ass.
“Do you think you could call them back and cancel it?”
“Why? We’re stuck here,” she challenges, and she isn’t wrong.
“Because there is no way I’ll be able to afford the tow all the way back to Athens.” Self-loathing rocks through me with the confession. I’ve tried so fucking hard not to let her feel the strain of my failures, but they are on full display now. “Karis will come get us if I call her, and I can come back with James’s truck later and tow it myself.”
“Is this really about money? I can pay for the tow truck,” she says with a sigh.
“You will not,” I growl, and she shrinks back again.
Goddamnit, I’m fucking everything up. For once, can I not pretend like I’m the type of man she deserves?
“I’m supposed to be the one taking care of you, not the other way around.”
“Bullshit. Relationships are supposed to be a partnership.”
“Kori”—I choke on the emotions clinging in my throat—“please just let me handle this my way, okay?”
“Fine,” she says with a resigned sigh and hands me her phone.
Without another word, she wanders away, putting distance between us before she sits on the grassy patch bordering the street and wraps her arms around herself in a tight embrace.
The device is a fucking bomb in my hand. Calling should be a no-brainer, but I can’t bring myself to dial. Deep in my gut, I know that if I hit that button, things will be over between us for good. And maybe they should be. My shoulders sag as I trudgeover to her and hand the phone back to her, unused. She doesn’t even look at me as she grabs it from me or as I sit beside her.
