Prologue
I self-edit and admit editing isn’t my greatest skill. I apologize in advance for anything I missed.
Ethan’s ancient clock radio warbled the old country song. “You can spend your whole life building, Something from nothing, One storm can come and blow it all away, Build it anyway.”
He grabbed the radio and threw it across the room so hard it broke open and spilled electronic components everywhere.
“What was that?” Ethan’s mother asked over the phone.
“The radio was spouting lies and I couldn’t take it anymore.” He replied while trying in vain to keep his voice even.
“I know it looks bad right now, but I promise it’ll get better.” His mother repeated for what seemed like the hundredth time. “You couldn’t have known.”
“I should’ve known.” He fumed and resumed his pacing with such vigor that an observer might think that the floor had done him a great personal wrong. “She always liked him a lot.”
“Honey, you can’t--” she started, but Ethan cut her off.
“I don’t want to talk about it right now.” He said. “I just called to let you know the wedding is obviously off, so there’s no point in you and dad flying out tomorrow.”
“We should anyway.” She said. “What about your business? I thought you two were partners.”
“Oh, that’s the best part.” Ethan curled his hands into a fist so tight it hurt. “They must’ve been planning this for a while because my name disappeared from a few key documents. He got a controlling interest and kicked me out.”
Ethan aimed a kick at the nearest object. Unfortunately, it was his old gas stove and he kicked it so hard that it pulled away from the wall. He winced as a sharp pain shot through his foot.
“But you started that business and built it up from nothing...” She trailed off. “Your dad and I are flying out anyway.”
“Well, I won’t have a place for you to stay.” He flopped down in a recliner to get off his painful foot. “Almost all my money was in the company accounts and since he kicked me out, I’ve got nothing. I won’t make rent and it’s due in a couple of days. You know what my landlord is like.”
“I know this looks bad honey, but--”
“Please don’t say it could be worse.” Ethan cut her off. “A man’s fiancée running off with his best friend and leaving him penniless is pretty hard to top. I have to go.”
“Okay.” She said. “We’ll be praying for you, and we’ll see you soon.”
“Sure.” He said and hung up.
A tiny part of him felt guilty for the way he’d talked to his mother, but the train wreck of his life buried that part pretty well. He pulled the recliner back and winced as he elevated his foot. The old gas stove was still there, the dent in the side mocking him as it sat cock-eyed from its original position.
“If there’s a God out there, can you please give me a fresh start?” He wished idly. “And while I’m asking for miracles, could I meet the perfect woman for me?”
He shook his head.
Only idiots believed in that shit. Given the events of the day, he certainly seemed to qualify. He took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and then leaned his head back in the recliner and closed his eyes. He just wanted to sleep; to have this miserable day end.
The last thing he remembered before he drifted off was the faint smell of gas in the air.
