Gemotions

The vintage car, a sleek, red convertible that had been his father's, sat gleaming in the driveway. The sun glinted off the polished chrome, mocking the predicament he was in. He'd tried to keep it perfect, a testament to his father's love and care. But now, it was his only chance.

He hadn’t slept in two days, his mind replaying the phone calls, the demands, the empty bank account. The repo man was coming tomorrow. He felt the cold sweat on his back.

He walked over to the car, his hand hovering over the door handle. It felt like a betrayal. He closed his eyes, his chest aching. He had no other choice.