In the distance, sirens blare, and before long lights are flashing all around me. Paramedics ask if I want to be evaluated and try to move me to an ambulance. I shake my head, refusing. I’m sure there are others in need of medical attention. I’m able to give the police all of the information they need for the report. The blur of the paramedics and firefighters running around take up my peripheral vision as I continue staring at the pile of metal I walked away from.
I wonder if it happened that fast for her, if she felt any pain. If she screamed or knew she was going to die. They said she died on impact, but do they really know? Maybe she took a few agonizing breaths before her heart stopped or actually felt her bones snap.
“Charlotte.” That voice. Oh, God. I close my eyes and lower my head at the gravely sound that manages to both calm and excite me. I knew I’d see him eventually since I moved back home, but this is not how I planned things. I’m not ready to see him yet.
“Sweetheart, look at me.”
I must have taken too long, because he puts a finger under my chin and tilts my head up. My eyes collide with his blue ones, and I suck in a breath at the man in front of me. His muscular frame looks even larger in his gear. Although I can’t see his black hair under his helmet, I would bet it’s still shaved close to his scalp. His strong jawline and long, dark lashes make him look like a model. If he were to smile at me, I would see the dimple on his left cheek. He’s not smiling, though. He’s looking at me with the same sad eyes I saw the first night I met him.
Without words, he puts his hands out for me. Surrendering, I put mine in his and he pulls me up, throwing an arm around my back to guide me. I don’t know where he’s taking me, but I follow him without question. I automatically lean in, resting my head on his strong shoulder.
He brings me to the back of an ambulance and wraps a blanket around me while rubbing my arms.
“Charlotte, you need to get looked at,” he tells me softly.
I nod, and a minute later, a very short, very kind, and very energetic lady starts examining me.
“Hey there, darlin’. What’s your name?”
Clearing my throat, I answer her, “Charlotte. Charlotte Kelly.”
“Well, that’s a very pretty name. I’m Fran, and I’m an EMT. I’m going to take a look at you, okay? Make sure you’re alright.” She continues talking while she looks in my eyes and hooks me up to a couple machines, but I’m not listening to what she’s saying.
Travis is holding my hand and rubbing small circles on my palm. The feeling unnerves me. One touch shouldn’t be this powerful; it shouldn’t make me feel like I’m seventeen years old again. I thought I’d been through too much to feel any kind of emotion through another’s touch, but apparently, Travis is an exception.
It’s been four years. Four years that I’ve always wondered about him… about us. I play the ‘what if’ game with Travis on almost a daily basis. And every time I do, the conclusion is the same; a relationship cannot be based on a lie. My thoughts are interrupted by Meara’s worried voice.
“Charlotte, holy shit! Are you okay?” Smiling a fake smile, I try to placate her. I really have no reason to smile right now. I should probably be dead. And on top of that, I saw the love of my life for the first time in four years.
“Yeah. A little dazed, but I’m okay.”
“Travis called me. My God, your car. I can’t believe you’re alive.” She throws her hand over her mouth and starts to shake her head. “I didn't mean it like that. I’m so sorry. Shit.”
“It’s okay, Meara.” I touch her arm, and she puts her hand over mine.
“No. It’s not. I can't believe I said that. I’m such an idiot. Is she really okay?” she asks, looking at Travis.
“Yeah. Fran says all her vitals are normal. I guess you can chalk it up to a miracle that she’s not injured. Looks like she has an angel or three looking after her.” He gives my hand a squeeze, and I fight back the tears that threaten. “I really have to get back to work, though. Are you good to take her home? She should have someone with her to make sure nothing happens. She refuses to go to the hospital.”
“Yeah. I’ll spend the night.”
“Great. I’ll check in tomorrow.” He lets go of my hand, gives Meara a hug, and leans down to whisper in her ear, but I hear every word that he says. “Keep an eye on her. She’s probably in shock, and like I said on the phone, this must have brought up memories of Caroline.”
They pull away from each other, and she gives him a tight smile before grabbing my hand. I avoid Travis’ stare and start to walk away, but am quickly pulled back. The front of my body slams against his. Instinctively, my hands fly up and land on his hard chest. He wraps his arms around me and puts his lips on my forehead. I shut my eyes and relish the sensation of being held by him again.
We pull away from each other, and I turn around, my hand grazing his as I leave. His fingertips curl, pulling on mine, and I stumble. I turn to look at him and raise my eyebrows in question.
“I’m coming over tomorrow, and you’re going to tell me why the fuck you’ve been back for six months, and this is how I find out.”
* * *
Meara drives me to my apartment, and once inside, I immediately fall asleep on the couch. I specifically told her not to tell Travis I was back because I need more time before I see him again. I’m not ready to face him yet. Although, I don’t know if I ever will be.
When I wake up, I groan at the stiffness in my neck. I really should have at least tried to make it to my bed. I stretch and throw the blanket on the back of the couch.
“Hey, hon. How ya feeling?” Meara asks from the kitchen.
“Like I got plowed.” I chuckle under my breath at my lame-ass joke.
“Ha. Ha. Do you need anything?”
“No. What the hell time is it?” I stand up and make my way to the kitchen to get some water.
“Well, It’s about ten forty-five… Friday morning.”
“I slept all night? Seriously?”
“Yeah. You were really out of it yesterday, which is understandable.”
“I was, I guess. As soon as I got out of the car, I just…” I pause and think about how lucky I am. “I dunno, it reminded me of Caroline, and I kind of zoned out. I need a shower, though. Once I’m done, you can make me food as an apology for telling Travis I’ve been back.”
“I see you’re still a master chef,” I joke, sitting down on a stool, feeling better after a shower.
“Laugh it up, bitch. It was either a grilled cheese or umm, let’s see… nothing. You have like no food in your house.” She puts a hand on her hip and scolds me with the spatula.
I roll my eyes. “I know. That’s what I was doing yesterday before the crash. Grocery shopping and birthday— Crap! How could I forget? It’s your birthday! Happy birthday!” I step around the counter and give her a hug. Then I pinch her arm.
“Ouch, what the hell?”
“You told him I’ve been back for six months. I told you not to. I said, ‘No matter what, if Travis asks, tell him I’m still in Texas’. You knew I wasn’t ready to see him!”