Breaking the Surface

Susan’s hands gripped the wheel tightly as she rounded a tight corner. Her boyfriend — well, ex-boyfriend now, I guess — was protesting in the back seat.

“You can’t leave me, not after six years, not like that.” She spoke calmly, but there was fire in her eyes. “No warning, no explanation, no chance to make it right. You just decide to leave. No… I’m not having that.”

Peter wanted to speak, but Susan was an expert with knots and gags. His head throbbed with pain from his temple, where she’d struck him with the pan.

“Was there another woman? Some young slut that’s more exciting than me? That it?”

Peter cried, wishing he’d told her the truth. He’d been diagnosed with brain cancer, had six months at most. He didn’t want her to see him die.

“Well, Pete, call me cliché, but if I can’t have you, nobody will.” She took a sharp right, slammed the gas, and hit the barrier going 120. They soared for a while, then hit the water. She blacked out, and Peter screamed as the car slowly sank below the waves.

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