Page 26 of Obeying His Rules

Baby, pick up!

I text as I floor it. I know I’m at least ten minutes away from where she’s going, depending on traffic.

She’s going to the bridge–our bridge–where we went so many times together. We discovered it once while we were out on a drive. It’s just an old truss bridge, covered in rust, hanging high above the river below, which can flow with strong currents, especially during the spring runoffs like we’re experiencing right now.

We would go there on date nights with pre-made meals to eat and watch the water flow beneath us while listening to music.

It’s where I brought her for our three-month anniversary.

And now she’s going there to end her life.

I dial again, but the call goes straight to voice mail.

“Goddamn it, Jennifer! Answer the fucking phone!”

I’m absolutely losing it as I merge onto the highway and floor it. I don’t care if the cops see me and try to pull me over for speeding. They can follow me to the bridge for all I care. No one is getting in my way tonight.

Don’t do this.

I send her another text, praying that she’ll read it despite the fact that she’s not answering my calls, praying that she’s still able to read it.

My fingers are shaking as I set my phone aside.

Has 9-1-1 made it there yet? This is an absolute nightmare.

The traffic is heavy, and I feel like there’s a car in front of me at every turn as I thread my way up the road, pounding the steering wheel, trying to keep myself from falling apart.

My heart feels like it’s about to explode when I finally pull off the exit and start cutting through the trees, a mere two minutes from the bridge.

“Come on, baby. Come on!”

I see her car, parked carelessly in the dirt on the side of the road, almost as though she’d swerved to miss hitting something and then just left it there. The lights are off. I park behind it and leap out, not even bothering to shut my door. I see no signs of 9-1-1 or any emergency services. I must have beaten them here.

“Jennifer!” I bellow. “Jenny? Where are you!?”

My voice echoes out through the night as I step onto the cold metal deck of the bridge. I look over the side and gaze down at the rushing water far below, terrified at what I might see.

“I’m here, Marlon.”

Her voice beside me snaps my attention, and I glance to my left to see her standing up on the side of the bridge, her body mostly hidden behind one of the steel girders she’s clutching.

She’s wearing the white dress I bought her one day on a whim when we were out walking and found a cute little boutique she liked. I thought she looked gorgeous in it then, but tonight, under the glow of the moon, it makes her look like a ghost.

“Baby, don’t do this,” I say softly as I approach slowly. “You don’t want to do this.”

“I don’t want to be here, Marlon.”

I’ve never heard her talk like this before. Never seen any signs.

I inch closer. I don’t want to spook her.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart? Let me help you.”

She shakes her head. “I’m just…sad all the time.”

“All the time? You’re sad when you’re with me?”

“No.” She smiles. “You make me happy.”

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