VOLUME TWO: WINTER'S PATH
Matt Holcomb
Late July
I knew before I even started my car this morning and made the two-hour trek to her house that today was not going to end how I'd hoped. Summer Quinn was supposed to be my salvation, and though she wouldn't be my ruin, the loss was going to thrust my life right back to what started my downward spiral in the first place.
From Greensboro to Charlotte, I passed the rolling Carolina countryside with my head in a fog, my heart clutching hope. Pine trees grounded in thick red clay passed by in a blur. Scatterings of wildflowers flashed color under the heavy, hot sun. I drove my reliable sedan that I'd purchased for my reliable life to go in the garage attached to my reliable house.
That was me. Reliable. The good southern guy. Boy next door.