Page 88 of Unbreakable Thread

A knot forms in my chest when she looks down, refusing to meet my gaze. This distance between us is her doing. Even after everything, I take her hand in mine. “You always have to be on the lookout. A lot of weirdos lurk at gas stations.”

She gives my hand a squeeze. “I will.”

When she’s done, I walk her back to the car. Before leaving, I grab a sandwich and a couple of other snacks. I hand her a sub, chips, and a water. She thanks me, and I keep driving.

I dip my hand into a bag of Doritos, and she offers to unwrap my sandwich. The silence sits between us. Only the music fills it. Sol sighs when she’s done and rubs her stomach, then proceeds to stare at the emptiness around us. Everything was going good until those fucking flowers arrived. She was supposed to come back to me. Now she seems so distant. She’s sitting beside me, and it feels like miles.

My thoughts grow louder, insistent, until I can’t hold them back anymore. I turn the radio down. “Tell me how many times you went to see him.”

She tucks her phone into the crease of her thigh and brushes back a wayward lock of hair. “Three times, Max.”

The flames of jealousy burn hotter. “Did you let him touch you?” My throat tightens around the words after they are out.

She turns to me and makes a face, and her eyes go into slits. “What the hell, Max? No, he didn’t touch me. I went in for tutoring, just as all other professors offer. I asked him about the questions for class, and about the way the damn human brain works because he’s a professor in neuroscience and knows.” She curses under her breath and folds her arms to her chest. Her gaze sinks back out the window.

“How long were you in there for?” I press.

“An hour.”

I’m silent for a long three minutes. “I thought you said you were there so long you two had dinner.” My hands clench on the steering wheel.

“Yes, Max, it was the first time I went in for tutoring. Then I asked him if I could pick his brain about amnesia. I explained, saying I had regained my memory from years ago. He showed me videos of others who have experienced this rarity.”

“Then what else happened?” I urge.

“Oh well, you know…” She waves a hand in the air. “I told him to sit back in his chair and spread his legs so I can suck his d⁠—”

Something tightens in my chest. I’m already pulling over. “Don’t—” I start, then growl. “Don’t fucking finish that.” My hands are steady on the wheel even as I shift into park.

She turns in her seat to face me fully. “You don’t fucking like it, do you?” She points. “Yeah, well, neither did I!”

I had to think hard about what I had said, and it hit me, Annette. I said things to piss her off, and it backfired. I’m heaving, staring at her.

“Qué celoso eres,” she mumbles.

I’m not jealous, I want to mumble back, but she’s right—I am. So damn jealous, it’s making me crazy. “Yes, I’m jealous, amor,” I admit.

She nods, her arms crossed over her chest. “I know. Your face is red.”

I look at myself through the rearview mirror. She’s exaggerating. I shift the truck and drive back on the road. Her lips slightly curl.

She points to the exit ramp. “Get off here and take a left.” Her voice is sharp, her brows in a deep V. “Keep going straight. At the second light, turn left.”

I follow her raised voice orders. We keep driving. The city’s chaos falls away behind us as we emerge onto a narrow lane bordered by tufts of wild grass and sprawling alfalfa fields.

“Are we almost there?” I ask.

“Yes, right here at the stop sign, turn right, and the building is right there.”

My head juts back. Life is Love Recovery Center, it reads. Is Sol coming here for help?

I park, and she unbuckles. I put a hand on her shoulder. “Baby, are you okay? Have you been…”

“No, Max, this is not for me.”

Does she think I need it?

She pauses with one foot out the door. “I hope this doesn’t upset you.” She doesn’t meet my gaze. Then she’s out.