JONAS’ POV (A NEW CHARACTER)
I stared at the crumbling ceiling of our small apartment. The sound of my wife sobbing quietly from the bedroom pierced through the thin walls. My chest ached with a lot of emotions.
The pressure of it all pressed down on me like a thousand bricks. Debt was suffocating us, and I could barely breathe under the pressure. Every day, I tried to convince myself that what I was doing-the pursuit of truth-was worth the struggle, but the bills didn’t care about integrity. Neither did the landlord.
I heard her soft footsteps approaching, her sobs barely under control. Emily stood in the doorway, her hand resting on her growing belly. Her eyes were puffy, red from crying again, and it twisted something deep inside me. I hated seeing her like this, hated knowing that I was the cause.
“Jonas,” she whispered “I need money for the doctor’s appointment next week. And the medicine… you know it’s not safe for the baby if I don’t get the vitamins they prescribed. I know you’re doing your best, but…” Her voice trailed off, and fresh tears fillled up in her eyes.
I sat up slowly, my hands trembling with exhaustion.
“I know, Em, I know. I’m trying,” I muttered, running a hand through my hair. The dark circles under my eyes felt heavier than ever. “But the papers I’m writing for… they barely pay anything. I’m not selling out like some of these other journalists. I didn’t get into this job to be a puppet, you know that.”
She shook her head, wiping her tears with the back of her hand. “Jonas, I don’t care about the truth or the lies right now. I care about us. About our baby. I care about surviving. I care about having a roof over our heads. I care about not choosing between food and medicine every month.”
Her words cut deep into my soul. I knew she was right. The bank accounts were empty, our savings long gone. The credit card bills were stacked on the kitchen table, unopened because I couldn’t bear to see the numbers anymore.
“Do you think I don’t feel this too?” I asked “Do you think I don’t lie awake every night wondering how I’m going to make it right? I’m trying, Emily. I’m trying so damn hard. But I can’t give up what I stand for. I can’t give up on being a real journalist.”
Her bottom lip trembled as she took a step closer, placing her hand gently on my shoulder. “But what are we supposed to do in the meantime? Jonas, I’m scared. I don’t want to be scared every day of what tomorrow brings.”
She broke down, collapsing into the chair beside me.
I couldn’t stand seeing her like this. The woman I loved, the mother of my unborn child, crying because of me. Because I was too stubborn, too idealistic. My heart shattered as I pulled her into my arms, holding her as she sobbed against my chest.
“I’ll figure it out,” I whispered, trying to sound reassuring even though I felt doubtful “I’ll fix this.”
“How?” she asked through her tears. “How are we going to pay for anything?”
“I… I don’t know,” I whispered . “But I won’t let you down. I swear.”
She lifted her head from my chest and wiped her eyes.
“I just need to know that you’re willing to do whatever it takes,” she said “Please, Jonas. I don’t want to lose our home. I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want to bring this baby into a world where we’re struggling just to survive.”
I nodded, though the knot in my throat nearly choked me. I kissed her forehead and held her close, not knowing what else to say. What else was there to say when words were cheap, and I was running out of time?
After a few moments, she pulled away and gave me a weak smile, the kind that said she was trying to be strong, even when everything felt like it was falling apart.
“I’ll figure it out,” I repeated, though this time, the words felt like a plea to myself as much as to her.
With a deep breath, I grabbed my camera from the shelf and stuffed it into my worn leather suitcase. The hinges creaked as I closed it. The gear inside reminding me of all the assignments I’d done, the stories I’d uncovered. Stories that hadn’t paid the bills. Stories that had cost me more than they’d ever given back.
I kissed Emily one more time before heading for the door. Her sad eyes followed me as I left.
“I love you,” I murmured, though the guilt in my chest made the words feel hollow.
“I love you too, honey,” she whispered back. “Please, just come home with something. Anything.”
I nodded, unable to say more, and walked out of the apartment into the bustling streets. My mind raced with questions I didn’t have answers to.
How was I going to pay the bills? How could I keep doing this and still hold on to my ideals? I felt like I was standing at a crossroads, one path leading to everything I’d fought for, the other to survival. How could I choose?
I walked for what felt like hours. My thoughts swirled in my head as I made my way toward the office. The city buzzed around me, people rushing by, oblivious to the storm inside my head. My feet dragged behind me and my head was lost in the clouds. It felt like the world was pressing in on me from all sides.
And then, as I was nearing the office, a sleek black car pulled up beside me, blocking my path. My heart skipped a beat. I stared at the car in confusion.
The tinted windows rolled down, and two men dressed in suits stepped out. They looked out of place, too polished for this part of town, too out of sync with the dirth sidewalks and rundown buildings.
“Mr. Jonas Rivers?” one of them asked.
I froze, gripping the handle of my suitcase tightly. “Yeah, that’s me. Who’s asking?”
The man smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “We have an offer for you. One you’ll want to hear.”
I frowned. My mind spum as I tried to figure out what this could be about. “I’m not interested in any offers.”
The other man stepped forward, holding up a hand. “This isn’t just any offer, Mr. Rivers. It’s a chance to solve all of your… financial problems. A chance to stop struggling. A chance to give your wife the life she deserves. Trust me, you’ll want to hear it.”