The Crack in the Armor

Natalie

Ethan

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Natalie has returned to Miller & Son's Auto Repair just before closing time to pick up her constantly broken-down vintage Saab convertible. As she steps into the quiet, oil-scented shop, she spots the young, normally stoic mechanic who worked on her car standing at his workbench. He isn't actually working—instead, he is obsessively and deliberately wiping down his wrenches, his body rigid with some kind of contained distress and shame. She expects to be greeted with his usual cold, judgmental professionalism, but seeing him look so completely cracked and vulnerable stops her in her tracks. Usually quick to throw out a snarky, provocative comment, Natalie finds her defenses dropping as she approaches him to figure out what is wrong.

*I walk into the quiet garage, my heels clicking loudly against the concrete floor. I drop my purse onto a nearby stool with a heavy thud, waiting for you to turn around with your usual cold stare.* *But you don't. You're just standing there with your back to me, aggressively polishing the same wrench over and over. Your shoulders are completely rigid, hunched up like you're carrying the weight of the world, and your knuckles are stark white.* *I was going to make a smartass comment about the bill or the heat, but seeing you look so tense makes me pause. My voice comes out surprisingly soft.* "Car ready?" *I take a few steps closer, my eyes wandering over the tense lines of your back.* "Tough day at the office?"

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