Page 43 of Sunflower Persona (Classic City Romance #2)

Gage

H alfway back to Athens, things go to shit.

Brandy shakes around us as the engine’s rattling intensifies.

She rallies for a few moments longer before a loud bang rocks the whole vehicle.

The steering wheel jerks in my grasp, and I yank my hand away from Kori’s thigh to regain control before we veer off the road completely.

My girl lets out a startled shriek, but I can’t comfort her—not now.

As the engine sputters its final breaths, smoke pours out from under the hood.

No. No. No.

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 myself move 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 trudge over 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.

Half a dozen things I want to say run through my head but never make it to my lips.

I want to beg for her forgiveness, prostrate myself until she smiles at me again with all that unfiltered joy, and tell her how much she means to me, but the gloom binds my tongue.

It’s better this way. I was foolish to think I might get to keep her.

There’s no version of her future with me in it—not where she also reaches her full potential.

Two and a half torturous hours pass before the tow truck finally arrives.

Not once during the wait does she even glance in my direction.

But it’s not like I tried to initiate anything either, no matter how badly I wanted to.

Instead, I let the gloom fully invade my mind.

It turns out I see things clearer with it around.

This is the first and last time I drag her down with me.

She greets the driver with a smile that doesn’t reach her eyes and hands over her— her parents’ —card without hesitation.

Fuck. I’ll find a way to pay back the Wrights.

It might be a drop in the bucket for them, but I’d never be able to live with their charity.

Especially not after the shit I’m about to do.

We squish onto the bench seat, and another forty-five minutes pass in strained silence before we pull in front of my complex.

It’s scary how the place I longed for a few hours ago feels like a death sentence now.

Against my better judgment, I keep my fingers on her thigh, drinking in the feel of her one last time.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to take this to a shop?” the driver asks.

“I’m sure. Thank you.”

He mumbles something under his breath and gets out to unhook my car. Once we get the shell of a vehicle settled in my spot, I take my keys back and head inside, not looking to see if Kori follows.

She does with barely restrained anger radiating off her in visceral waves.

“So are we just not going to talk about that?” she asks as the door latches behind her.

“What is there to talk about?”

A bark of bitter laughter falls from her lips. “So you didn’t have a complete meltdown over a couple hundred bucks?”

My jaw clenches as I resist the urge to snap back at her.

No matter how hard I try or what good I can give her, she can’t understand what it took for me to get there.

Or how hard it is for me to give her what she needs.

Fuck, this was never going to last. I’m not the type of man who gets forevers.

I’m only dragging her down—she just doesn’t realize it yet.

But she will. And it’s best for both of us if she doesn’t waste time figuring it out.

“This isn’t working for me,” I tell her. My voice is void of any emotion despite the storm destroying me from the inside out.

“What isn’t?”

“You. Us. I can’t do this anymore.”

I can’t keep pretending like I’m not slowly stealing your light.

“Oh.”

That one word sucks all the air from the room.

“Okay,” she says in a hollow tone that sends a shiver of ice down my spine. “I’ll just get out of your hair, then.”

Panic thrashes in me as she heads for the door, screaming at me that I’m making a mistake. Without thinking, I call out to her before she can leave.

“Kori, wait.” My voice cracks with desperation.

She freezes but doesn’t say a word.

“Don’t think you did anything wrong. You’re more perfect than I ever dreamed was possible. I’m the one who’s not good enough for you.”

Silence hangs in the air, so taut that the smallest shuffle could shatter it. It only lasts a second before she whirls around, glaring at me with unrefined rage.

“Who do you think you are telling me who is and isn’t good enough for me?”

The venom behind those words is so concentrated I’m stunned speechless.

“You can end things—I’m not going to fight you on that—but don’t put words in my mouth, and don’t you dare try to spin this as some sort of noble sacrifice. You’re a coward, plain and simple.”

“Kori…”

“Tell me I’m wrong.”

When I don’t say anything, she scoffs and storms out the front door. The sound of her engine roaring to life cuts through the air, and as it fades into the distance, it takes my heart with it.

She might not realize it yet, but this is for her own good. I’m letting her go because I love her too damned much to have her clip her wings by binding herself to me. That knowledge doesn’t stop the gaping hole in my chest from pulsing in agony.

I never thought heartbreak would be a physical pain.

A scream works its way out of my throat.

It’s a mix of all the emotions warring inside me: rage, despair, anguish, frustration, regret.

In one swift motion, I swipe everything from the counter onto the floor.

The crashing cacophony soothes some of the chaos.

Or maybe I find peace in making my environment match my mental state.

Either way, once I start, I can’t stop, and in no time at all, my apartment is in shambles.

Broken glass litters the floor, crunching under every heavy step, and anything not bolted to the ground has been upturned.

With nothing left to destroy and the pain as intense as it was the second she walked out the door, I turn to the only tried-and-true method I know for numbing all my feelings.

I grab the unopened “rainy day” bottle of vodka tucked into my freezer, and I drink.