“South Bay needs some cleaning up. But that’s what I’m here for.” I throw her a wink and nod to the South Bay Police Department patch on my shoulder.
A small smile curves up the side of her face.
God, I love that smile.
Lately, we’ve been stuck in this weird loop. Work, home, eat, bed. The time between filled with arguing. And that smile Ilove so much? It’s changed. The kind that doesn’t hit the eyes. It’s forced. Drenched in politeness, followed by small talk and detached conversations. We’re not us. We haven’t been for a long time.
It’s like we’re strangers, and it’s fucking killing me.
Her smile vanishes. Maybe she feels it too. Like she’s also realized that, once again, we’re here. The fight we never finish because we already know how it’ll end, and neither of us is ready to admit that we want different things, that we’re outgrowing the relationship we’ve been building since high school.
Em presses her head against the headrest and sighs. “Those boys you used to fight with aren’t pretending anymore. Axel Donovan? Jack? They’re the real deal now.”
“So am I,” I say, motioning to my uniform. “I’m not intimidated by the Donovans, Em, and I won’t be one of those cops sitting in a Sinner’s pocket. South Bay can change. I wish you could see that.”
She closes her eyes and sighs. “And I wishyoucould see this isn’t a fight you can win. Not while the Donovans are running this town. Think about what this has done to your family. To your father. You want to change something? Changeus.Our future. South Bay will always be South Bay, but we don’t have to stay here.”
Leaving. She thinks that will fix us. All I have to do is quit my job, pack my bags, and follow her into the city. It’s the sacrifice I have to make to show her I want her, that I can put us first. New city, new life, but then what?
Why can’t she understand? Why can’t she be happy with what we have? Why is none of this good enough for her?
I sigh. “Can we refasten that pin and forget about this for today? Please?” I throw her my most charming smile.
Despite the irritation still lining her face, she smiles back. “Only if you let me pick the playlist,” she says seriously.
Music. Another thing Em and I can’t ever agree on. I snatch her phone and toss it into the back seat.
“Hey! What the hell?” She gives my shoulder a series of playful punches.
I break into a face-splitting grin. “I’d rather listen to the broken radio.”
“My car, my music. Eyes on the road.” Laughing, she unbuckles her seat belt and reaches for her phone.
Fuck, I love her laugh.
My chest feels heavy. Like I miss something I don’t know is gone yet. I swallow the lump in my throat and survey the blacktop, the lightening sky, the kilometres of forest surrounding our town, the approaching rock-cut.
The farm again.
White wraparound porch. Big tree. Mackinley on a plow in the back field. His cows are already roaming, the chimney smoking to fight off the early morning cold.
How are we back here again? What the fuck is happening to me?
And why… why does this feel familiar?
“Brown Eyed Girl” by Van Morrison starts to play. My muscles lock as a deep feeling of unease knots up my stomach.
I’ve… I’ve been here before, haven’t I?
Same drive. Same conversation. Same song.
But it’s the last song I want to hear. Doesn’t she know that?
I clutch the steering wheel until my knuckles turn white. “Why are you playing this?”
“You love this song.”
“No. I don’t. Not anymore. Turn it off,” I snap.
