Lynda Sandoval - You, And No Other

He slammed the door, desperate to escape, then pressed the speaker button and told his driver, Leon, to hit it.

“You’ve become just like him,” came Cagney’s muffled voice through the closed window, “and you can’t even see it. God, Jonas, how could you have let him win?”

His entire body began to shake, as everything he’d based his adult life on disintegrated before his eyes. He had to get away from the disaster this day—his whole world—had become. Had to get away from Cagney and her excruciatingly clear insights.

Could he have misread the situation all along?

No. Not going there, either.

The engine sprang to life, and Cagney stumbled backward from the limo, wrapping her arms around her middle. He knew she couldn’t see him through the dark window, but she never took those piercing eyes off it anyway. He watched as one tear spilled over and coursed down her soft cheek, and yet she stood in stoic silence, not bothering to wipe it away.

I am not like that bastard, he thought, his jaw tight, head pounding. But it felt like a lie, and that killed him. He pressed his palm to the glass and let the regret for everything they’d lost, everything it was far too late to get back, wash over him. The whole fiasco might be funny if it weren’t so damn tragic.

Twelve years ago, he’d walked blindly into a wellset trap of blame and anger and resentment, and he’d been stuck there ever since. Now he had nothing good left inside him, nor did he have Cagney. And there was no going back.

Wouldn’t Chief Bishop be thrilled?

“I don’t hate you,” Jonas whispered, as the only woman he’d ever loved grew smaller and smaller in the distance. “But it’s way too late to fix that now.”

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