Page 88 of Dash

“His helmet,” I take it from him with shaking hands and heart pounding. “How do you have it?” I ask trying not to fall over.

He looks guilty as he lowers his eyes to the ground. “He gave it to me. He signed it and gave it to me outside of a jewelry shop.”

I look down and rub the tips of my fingers over the four letters where he signed DASH along with his number below it and my chest tightens. “Thank you,” I say brokenly as I hug the helmet to my chest. This could have saved his life. This one thing could have made our dreams come true.

CHAPTER FOURTY-FOUR

TABATHA

I lay in my bed as I look up at the ceiling. Jackie sits on the edge of it. Dash has been gone for three weeks, and it still hurts as bad as it did the moment I found out he left us. I don’t eat much, but I sleep often. He’s always in my dreams. Always smiling. Telling me that he loves me. He holds me while we bask in the sun on a beach. Or sitting by a warm fire on a cold, winter night. But wherever he takes me in my dreams, it’s always just the two of us. I cry, and he tells me it’ll be okay. That he is with me every day. That he truly never left me. And when I wake up, all alone, I find myself staring at his side of the bed and I cry my eyes out. I’ve closed myself off from the world. Jackie comes over daily, but it’s gotten to the point where we don’t even talk. She grabs my mail out of my mailbox and brings it in for me. I might have moved in with Dash, but I wasn’t on the deed and he didn’t have a will. His parents put the house up for sale shortly after the funeral, and I bought it. There was never a doubt in my mind that I wanted to stay here. Where we had planned to build a life. It has a different feel to it now, but he’s still here with me.

Jackie sits on the end of the bed and just stares off into space for about thirty minutes then she leaves. At first, she would tell me that it was going to be okay—at times she even brought Jake or Blake with her—but after a couple of weeks, she gave up on me. I don’t blame her; I’m a lost cause. And I’m actually thankful that she doesn’t try to cheer me up. She doesn’t understand how I feel, and it’s hard for me to put it into words.

I close my eyes as I feel the bile taste in my mouth. It’s been happening often lately. But what do you expect your body to do when you starve it? I’ve never understood what someone goes through when they say they have depression. Until now. It breaks you down to the point you feel crippled. My body has turned against me, and I don’t even fight it. I can’t even get out of bed. I keep the shades pulled tight to block out the sunlight. I prefer the darkness.

The bile rises and I sit up quickly, throwing a hand over my mouth. Jackie spins around to look at me wide-eyed. “Tabatha?” She reaches out for me, but I throw the covers off and run to my bathroom. My body finds the strength I didn’t even know it had to move.

I fall to my knees and what little I had to eat yesterday comes up. Her soft hand rubs my back as I cough and spit out what my body has rejected. And when I finish, I lay down on the cold tile floor, once again unable to move. My body gives up on me again. Just those few seconds of vomiting left me utterly useless. She places a cold washrag on my forehead and lays down next to me. I look over at her as my eyes sting from the tears.

“I’m sorry for being such a shitty friend,” I softly say. She’s done nothing but be here for me, and I have taken that for granted.

“Stop,” she says as a tear runs down her face. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

We lay there side by side on my bathroom floor like two kids afraid of what is to come. Because Dash taught me that you’re never guaranteed tomorrow. And yesterday is never enough.

EPILOGUE

SIX YEARS LATER

I pull my short dark hair out of face, trying to tuck it behind my ears. I cut it a few years back. One of those moments when you go into the salon, and she asks, “What are we doing today?” And you say, “Something different.” And that something different ends up making your hair almost ten inches shorter. I must have liked it though because I still keep it at that length. The wind blows again and it gets caught in my pink lip-gloss, and it makes me laugh.

“What’s so funny?”

I look up to see Jake coming toward me with a big smile on his face and a little girl on his shoulders. “Mommy,” she says excitedly. “Can I open my presents now?” she begs in the most adorable voice I have ever heard.

“Not yet,” I say smiling. “We gotta wait til everyone gets here,” I remind her, and she pushes her bottom lip out. It’s hard to say no to that face. The face that she looks so much like her father. I see him every time I look at her. Dash would be so proud of her. It took Jackie and me three full days of us living on my bathroom floor—me too sick to get up and her refusing to leave my side—before we thought of the possibility that I could be pregnant. I never even thought that could be a possibility, but I was wrong.

My life changed once again after reading those two pink lines. I had to be strong; I had to survive because Dash wasn’t dead after all. A part of him was going to live on and I was going to be a mom. A mom to his child. That seems like so long ago now. But those nine months went by agonizingly slow. I was afraid to leave the house. I was afraid to do anything that could jeopardize my pregnancy. He had left me with a gift, and I was afraid to lose it. Her room is covered in pictures of Dash and me. Some are of him winning his race. Some are from pictures of us that Jackie took with her phone. And some are magazine clippings. She knows her daddy is in heaven. And she knows that he loves her very much.

Our little girl squeals, getting my attention as Jake pulls her off his shoulders and places her on her feet. I smile as I look at the little pink toenails her white sandals are showing off. Her bright pink dress falls almost down to her feet and her dark brown hair is pulled up in a messy ponytail. I had fixed it earlier this morning, but she and Jake have been rolling around in the grass all day.

“Mommy?” She pulls on my shirt.

“What is it, sweet pea?” I ask with a smile.

“I want my bubbles,” she pouts, and I reach into my pocket pulling out the small thing of bubbles for her. “Here you go.”

She gives me a big smile and then turns around to run off after her friends. I stand in my parents’ backyard on Erika’s fifth birthday party, and I can’t help but smile. I wanted to name her after him, so I named her Erika. Erika Noel Dashling. My smile grows as I watch her play. It hurts every day that Dash isn’t here to see her. To see how much she looks like him and how much she already acts like him at only five. I see him in her every single day. I guess God gave me my miracle after all.

“Where is my brother?” Jake mumbles as he looks down at his watch. Jake also plays a big part in my and Erika’s life. We started dating about a year back. I wouldn’t say he has replaced Dash and he knows that he never could. But I do love him. It was a slow process. Accepting Dash was gone was hard to do. Then finding out that you are having a child to a man who will never get to experience that is even harder. But Jake was always there for me. We both have a hole that can’t be filled by someone we’ve lost, but I think that it helps. He loves Erika just as much as I do. And in return, I love him. We’re not married, and I’m not sure if we ever will. But we have built a life together. A different life than what I wanted with Dash. People judge me for being with him, but I don’t care what they have to say. My father once told me that he knows Dash would want me to be happy. And it has taken years, but finally I am.

I still have my engagement ring from Dash. I even still wear it. I see Jake look down at it every now and then. I don’t know what he’s thinking when he stares at it. All I know is that I’m still not ready to take it off. Nothing about my and Dash’s relationship was planned, but what little time we had together was beautiful. And every night when I lay down in bed, I see him. His beautiful smile hypnotizes me. His gorgeous eyes I get lost in.

I still feel his love. I still feel his strong arms around me. I still see his cocky smile every time I close my eyes, and I still smell him on my skin. He is still here, with me, with us.

“God, it’s hot as hell.”

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