TWO TARAN #3
I felt the weight of that rejection, the sting of being judged not for my dedication or experience, but for the things I didn’t have.
They couldn’t see that I was the one who kept Mabel’s Sweet Treats running on weekdays, or that I’d saved every spare dollar from my second job for this dream.
It didn’t matter to them. They wanted guarantees—assets, credit, things I didn’t have to show them.
Rory was counting on me. I couldn’t afford to fail—not again.
The weight of that reality settled like a stone in my chest, but I shook it off.
Yeah, I’d figure it out. I had to. For him.
For us. No matter how impossible it seemed right now, there had to be a way.
I couldn’t let this be the end of the road.
The cold slapped me in the face the second I stepped outside. Snow had piled up while I was in that office. Teeth chattering, I made my way to the car, pulling my coat tighter. The snow that had seemed magical earlier now felt like a reminder of everything closing in on me.
I slid into the driver’s seat, shut the door, and pressed the button on the dash, expecting the engine to roar to life as it usually did.
Instead, the dashboard lights flickered but went dark again.
My heart skipped a beat as I checked the parking brake; everything seemed fine, but the damn car wouldn’t start.
A cold sweat broke out on my skin, and I exhaled slowly, forcing my nerves to calm.
I jiggled the steering wheel back and forth, hoping to free whatever had it stuck, then pressed the button again. The engine sputtered to life for a moment—just long enough for a brief spark of hope—before it choked and died.
“No,” I muttered, my voice cracking with desperation. “Not now.”
I pressed the button again. Nothing. I tried again.
Frustration gnawed at me as I tightened my grip on the steering wheel, my knuckles turning white.
Finally, on the fourth try, the engine roared to life with a shaky cough, rattling like it had seen better days.
I let out a jagged breath, but the frustration lingered, heavy and suffocating.
This wasn’t just a dying engine; it felt like yet another roadblock in a life already filled with uncertainties.
I ignored the burning at the back of my eyes. I had to be strong, even when every part of me wanted to break. Rory depended on me, and I couldn’t fail him—not like I’d failed Royce. I had to keep pushing forward, even if that meant juggling multiple jobs just to keep the lights on.
When I pulled up to Matthew’s house, I plastered on a smile. His mother opened the door, her face warm and welcoming.
“Thanks, Nancy,” I said, swallowing the knot in my throat. “Sorry for the delay.”
“No problem at all,” she said, patting Rory’s shoulder. “He’s a good kid.”
Rory ran to my side, beaming. The sight of him—so full of hope—made the weight in my chest feel heavier. He opened the car door and climbed in, eyes bright with expectation.
“Did you get the loan, Dad?” His voice was hopeful, too hopeful.
I shook my head, unable to hide the disappointment. “No. They need assets to back it up.”
Rory’s face fell for a second, but he quickly masked it with a smile. “We’ll get it next time, right?”
I forced a nod. “Yeah, we will.”
But could we? Doubt gnawed at the edges of my mind.
I’d put everything into this plan, hoping it would be our way out, our chance at a better life.
But now… what? Was it foolish to believe things could change?
My stomach twisted at the thought. Maybe it was.
Maybe I was chasing a dream that was never meant for me.
“Dad, you can do it,” Rory said quietly, his voice full of faith.
My throat tightened. I wished I could share his certainty. I wanted to be the dad who could give him the world, who could make everything right. But right now, I wasn’t sure I could.
By the time we got home, the business plan felt like dead weight in my hand.
Useless. Without a second thought, I tossed it in the trash.
What was the point? I didn’t have what it took to make this work.
Maybe I never did. It wasn’t just about the loan—it was everything.
Royce. The bakery. Rory. Every single thing I tried to build seemed to crumble, no matter how hard I fought.
I closed my eyes, letting the exhaustion settle in.
Maybe I didn’t deserve a fresh start. Maybe this was my punishment for not being there for Royce when he needed me most. If I’d tried harder, if I’d done more, maybe he’d still be here.
But I hadn’t. I’d failed him, and now, I was failing Rory, too.
The memories of Royce came flooding back—his haunted eyes, the weight he carried after coming home from the army. I should have done more for him. I should have helped him shoulder that burden. And now, without him, everything felt broken, incomplete.
Rory’s soft voice broke through my thoughts. “Dad… it’s gonna be okay, right?”
I turned to him, heart aching. His faith in me was unwavering, and that hurt the most. I couldn’t let him down. I wouldn’t. I had to keep fighting, even if it felt like the world was stacked against me. I pulled him close, my hand resting on his head.
“Yeah, kiddo,” I whispered. “It’s gonna be okay.”