Chapter 3

I closed my eyes, pressing my head against the cool window, trying to block out the world. The rhythmic hum of the engine and the muffled chirping of Dallas had become a torment. But soon, the hum turned into a jarring vibration, and the ride grew rougher. We were no longer on smooth asphalt.

I opened my eyes and peered out. The few streetlights had vanished, replaced by the deep, inky blackness of the countryside. Gaunt, skeletal trees clawed at the night sky. Panic flared in my chest.

"Where are we?" I demanded, my voice sharp with fear.

Braylon ignored me, his gaze fixed on the road ahead. Dallas giggled softly. The silence from Braylon sent a fresh wave of terror through me. This wasn't the way home.

"Braylon, stop the car!" I shouted, my voice rising in hysteria. "Stop the car right now!"

The car screeched to a halt, throwing me forward. My head slammed against the back of the passenger seat. A lightning bolt of pain shot through my skull, followed by a dizzying rush. I gasped, clutching my throbbing forehead.

Before I could even register the injury, Braylon turned, his eyes burning with a cold fury I' d never seen before. It was a look that stripped me bare, that saw me as an enemy.

"Apologize," he snarled, his voice low and dangerous.

I stared at him, my hand still pressed to my aching head. "Are you insane? You just slammed on the brakes, I hit my head! And you want me to apologize?"

"Apologize to Dallas," he repeated, his voice unwavering. "Apologize for being rude, for ruining the mood, for always making a scene."

The absurdity of it all hit me like another blow. This was not the man I had spent five years with. This was a monster.

"Apologize?" I scoffed, a bitter laugh escaping my lips. "She's the one who deliberately provoked me, who elbowed me, who talked nonstop despite knowing I get carsick!"

Dallas, seeing Braylon's rage, immediately burst into theatrical tears. She clutched his arm, burying her face in his shoulder. "Braylon, she always does this! She always picks on me! She's so mean!"

She looked up at him, her eyes glistening. "Maybe I should just get out. I don't want to cause any trouble between you two." Her words were laced with false humility, a manipulative poison.

Braylon's face was iron. He turned to me, his eyes blazing. "You are selfish, Eliza! You're petty and mean-spirited! All she ever does is try to make me happy, and you repay her with this negativity!" He took a deep, shaky breath, his chest heaving. "This is your last chance, Eliza. Apologize. Now."

My answer was a silent, defiant shake of my head. My pride, shattered into a million pieces over five long years, was the only thing I had left. I wouldn't surrender it to him, not for her.

Braylon' s jaw tightened. With a violent shove, he pushed his car door open and stepped out. A gust of icy wind, sharp and unforgiving, tore through the car. It chilled me to the bone.

He yanked the back door open. Before I could react, he grabbed my arm, his fingers digging into my flesh. He pulled me out, roughly. I stumbled, my injured leg buckling, but he didn't care. He dragged me to the edge of the dark, unlit road.

He pointed into the oppressive darkness, a sinister landscape of unseen horrors. "You want to be stubborn? Fine. Stay here. Reflect on your behavior. When you're ready to apologize, call me."

He didn't wait for a reply. He spun on his heel and got back into the car, slamming the door with a final, echoing thud. The engine roared to life.

"My phone's dead!" I screamed, my voice cracking, a desperate, futile plea into the night. "Braylon, my phone's dead!"

But he didn't even glance back. The taillights glowed, then shrank, disappearing into the vast, indifferent darkness. He left me. Alone.