« No, Jake. I wanted you to stop hiding behind them. »
He went silent for one second, then started yelling again.
« You wanted to humiliate me, Elle! »
To understand why, you had to know what that car meant to me.
Timothy and I had saved for three years to buy it.
We kept our sagging living-room chairs, used phones with cracked screens, and skipped weekend trips while our friends posted pictures from beaches and cabins.
Every sacrifice brought us closer to our goal.
Timothy and I had saved for three years to buy it.
The morning we brought it home, I sat behind the wheel, running my hand over the clean dashboard while Timothy leaned against the door.
« You know it’s allowed to have fingerprints, babe. »
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