We made our way along the dirt road and I tried to focus my mind on a game plan for my arrival in Chicago, but I couldn’t even try to care. All that I could think about was the utter disdain that I’d felt from Luke’s words in the barn. I hoped desperately that with each mile, I’d feel… less…
Owen attempted to lay his chair back, but the monstrous suitcase was taking up the majority of the back seat and made it impossible.
“F*cking perfect,” he said dramatically.
I laughed with a snort, grateful for the distraction from my thoughts.
“Glad to see that you’re finally pleased with something,” he said angrily.
“Owen, seriously!? Come on. It’s hilarious. That big ass suitcase in this stupid little car?” I laughed heartily at the absurdity of it.