Axel forced himself to steady the rising storm in his chest. The anger that had been threatening to spill out of him simmered down as he drew in a deep breath. His hands clenched on his lap, but he did not allow his voice to come out sharp when he finally spoke. Instead, it was weary, heavy with the weight of someone tired of repeating himself.
"Marlon," he said slowly, his gaze fixed on the passing road through the window, "you need to recognize something. The man you keep referring to, the person you call my old self, is dead. That version of me is gone. What you see now, this me you say you detest, is the one who exists. I cannot go back, and you just have to accept it and live with it."
Marlon's hands tightened around the steering wheel. He noticed the calmness in Axel's voice and realized his brother had finally cooled his temper. Marlon let out a long sigh of his own, his eyes still on the road, though his voice carried the frustration of his heart.
