Chapter 1

The grease under my fingernails was a permanent fixture, a dark reminder of the double shifts I pulled at Marconi' s Auto Repair, my dad always said honest work stains your hands but cleanses your soul, I guess he was right.

Every extra dollar, every bead of sweat, was for Jessie.

My Jessie.

She deserved the world, or at least a life better than the one we had, scraping by in South Philly.

She' d talk about a little house with a yard, maybe a picket fence, and I' d see it clear as day, her smiling, me finally able to breathe.

"Just a little more, baby," she'd say, her eyes shining, "We're almost there."

So I worked, and then I worked some more, gig deliveries after my shifts, the city lights a blur through my tired eyes.

Most of it went straight to her, to our "house fund."

Tonight, I handed her a thick envelope, "Another five hundred for the dream, Jess."

She took it, her smile a little too quick, a little too bright, "Oh, Ethan, you're the best."

She didn' t count it in front of me anymore, just tucked it away.

"Kyle called today," she said, fiddling with a loose thread on the couch.

My stomach tightened a bit, Kyle, her younger brother, was a black hole for money.

"His startup, you know, it' s really taking off, he just needs a bit more capital to scale up."

I nodded, trying to keep the doubt off my face, "Yeah? That' s great."

I loved Jessie, and loving Jessie meant at least tolerating Kyle and his endless "ventures."

A week later, the call came from my mom, her voice choked with tears.

"Ethan, it's your father, there was an accident at the plant, he needs surgery, now."

The world tilted, my dad, my rock, broken.

"How much, Mom? How much do we need?"

"The doctors said... at least ten thousand, upfront, for the specialist."

Ten thousand, we didn' t have that, not after I' d been pouring everything into the house fund.

"Okay, Mom, okay, I' ll handle it."

I hung up, my hands shaking, and immediately called Jessie.

Voicemail.

Called again.

Voicemail.

Texted her, "Jessie, emergency, call me NOW. Dad's in the hospital."

Nothing.

Panic started to claw at my throat, I needed that house fund money, our money.

I drove to her apartment, lights off, car gone.

Where could she be?

I called Sal, my co-worker, my friend.

"Sal, man, I' m in deep, my dad..."

I explained, my voice cracking.

"Say no more, Ethan," Sal said, his voice steady, "How much you need? Come by the shop, I got you."

Sal, who barely made ends meet himself, didn't hesitate.

The relief was so immense I almost buckled.

Later that night, after Dad was stable and Sal had pressed a wad of cash into my hand, refusing any talk of repayment terms, I finally found Jessie at her place.

She looked surprised to see me, her hair damp, wearing a new silk robe I' d never seen.

"Ethan! What' s wrong? You look awful."

"My dad, Jessie, he had an accident, needed emergency surgery, I' ve been trying to reach you all day."

Her face softened with concern, "Oh my god, Ethan, I' m so sorry, is he okay?"

"He' s stable now, no thanks to our savings."

"What do you mean?" she asked, her brow furrowing.

"I needed the money for the surgery, Jessie, our house fund, I couldn' t reach you."

A flicker of something unreadable crossed her face, "Oh, that, well..."

She sat down, suddenly looking small.

"The thing is, Ethan, Kyle needed it, it was a make-or-break moment for his company, he promised to pay it back, with interest, really soon."

I stared at her, the words not making sense.

"He needed it? All of it? Jessie, that was over fifteen thousand dollars, that was for our house, for emergencies like this!"

My voice was rising, the exhaustion and fear and now this, this betrayal, it was too much.

"I know, I know," she said, tears welling in her eyes, big, fat tears that always undid me, "But he was so desperate, Ethan, he' s my brother, he said this was his big shot."

"And my father? What about him? What if Sal hadn't helped me?"

The image of my dad, pale and still in that hospital bed, flashed in my mind.

"Don't say that," she sobbed, burying her face in her hands, "He' ll pay it back, I' ll make sure of it, we' ll get it all back, I promise."

She looked up, her face streaked with tears, her eyes pleading.

"Please, Ethan, don' t be mad, I did it for my family."

And just like that, the anger drained out of me, replaced by a familiar weariness.

Her family.

I was her family too, wasn't I? Or was I just the guy who paid the bills?

But seeing her cry, so distraught, I caved.

"Okay, Jessie," I sighed, pulling her into a hug, "Okay, just... make sure he pays it back."

She clung to me, "He will, I swear, thank you, Ethan, you' re so understanding."

Understanding. Yeah, that was me.