I was halfway home when the buzzing that my car usually made grew louder. I cursed under my breath and gripped my steering wheel tighter.
I groaned. “Please, please don’t give up on me. Not now.” I hoped the car gods would hear my prayer and get me home before it gave up on me.
But I spoke too soon.
The sun was dipping low behind the horizon when black smoke poured out of the hood. I barely had time to pull over when it stuttered to a stop.
No me jodas.
I dropped my head back, running my hands over my face and fighting the urge to laugh at my lack of luck.
Gathering myself, I pushed on the distress signal. After I made sure there were no cars in sight, I climbed out and rounded to the front of my car. I popped the hood and stepped back, letting the steam disperse in the air.
I looked over at the transmission, knowing that was most likely the issue, only to find that it was completely blown.
Of course this would happen to me.
The repairs would cost me a fortune. One I definitely couldn’t afford on a resident’s salary.
Once I realized that there wasn’t any way for me to fix it this time, I mentally went through who I could call to help. Kenna was at work and Esra was out of town for a fashion show. My parents’ house was about an hour away in the other direction.
I let out a huffed breath then fished my phone out of my pocket and dialed the last number I wanted to call. Surprisingly, less than twenty minutes later, his car pulled over in front of mine.
He glared at me as soon as I stepped out of my car. “What did you do?”
What the hell is his problem?
Ignoring his attitude, I calmly replied, “My transmission finally gave out on me. It’s usually fine, but I guess today wasn’t my lucky day.”
His brows slammed together. “Wait, you mean to tell me that you’ve been driving this thing with a bad transmission?”
He did not just call my car ‘this thing.’Breathe, Sienna. He’s not worth getting worked up over.
“It’s not a big d?—”
His eyes squinted in frustration, and he closed the distance, cutting me off. “A big deal?A big deal?Do you know how dangerous that is?” he asked, towering over me.
My back was now pressed against the front of my car. Irritation clawed at my chest at his tone. I placed my hands over his chest and pushed him back. “I didn’t call you to be berated. I called you for help. Now, if you’re not going to, you can leave.” I groaned. “I’ll just call someone else.”
I slipped from under him and moved to walk away, but he wrapped his fingers around my wrist and pulled me flush to his chest. He leaned his head down, his lips almost brushing mine. “You will do no such thing. I am your husband and therefore theonlyone you call when you need help,” he gritted through his teeth.
Then he let go of me and I stumbled back, my heart hammering in my chest.
Nudging his head toward his car, he said, “Get in the car, Sienna.”
“What about my car?”
“Already taken care of.” He pulled the passenger door open. “Now get in.”
We got home in half the time it usually would havetaken me and the entire ride was spent in a deafening silence. My heart was still pounding from earlier and I could feel his irritation coming off of him in waves.
I should be the one angry.Mycar gave out on me and now I needed to find another way to get to work. Not only that, but I’d lost the only thing that gave me a semblance of freedom. The place I could escape to when I needed a break from the house, and now I didn’t even know if I’d get it back.
He parked into his spot and slammed his door shut behind him, then came to my side to open the door for me before he moved toward the front door. I stepped out and followed behind him, listening to him mutter under his breath in French and growing more furious with each step I took.
I’ve had enough.
“What’s your problem?” I huffed out, gripping the strap of my tote bag to rein myself in.