Page 65 of Revived

Her eyes widen in shock. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I want to hold you. I’m not ready to leave you.” The truth is, I’m afraid if I leave her it will cause me to overanalyze what just happened.

That declaration makes her face come alive with happiness as she turns and offers me her back so we can spoon. “I’d love that.”

“Thank you again for tonight. I can’t express how much I care about you, Rachel,” I whisper in her ear as she relaxes in my arms, our naked bodies touching along every inch of skin.

“I care about you too, Luke. Tonight was amazing. I’ll never forget it,” she replies before we both drift off effortlessly and another woman visits me in my dreams.

“241- we’ve got a 12-16 on Highway 11.” The radio dispatcher barks through the call on the radio as I travel down Main Street.

“10-4. On my way. Fatal car crash, we’ve got to turn around,” I signal to Brian, my companion for the night as I flip a bitch as fast as possible, turn on my lights and sirens, and make my way towards the highway.

There’s a slight haziness in the air, decreasing visibility and making the roads slick in the black night, an element I’m sure had a factor in the accident we’re headed towards. Highway 11 has a lot of sharp turns—one wrong move and you could end up needing more than just a new paint job on your car.

When we arrive on scene, the paramedics and fire department had beat us there. Red and blue flashing lights spin and light up the area, moving through the trees around us as the car that slammed into a tree comes into view once I step out of my cruiser.

And then my heart plummets in my chest, my stomach fights to keep my dinner down, and my eyes bug out of my sockets when I realize I know that car and the woman who’s likely inside.

“HANNAH!!!” I scream, sprinting for the vehicle like a bat out of hell, my knees and feet lifting so fast, I barely see the paramedic that stops me cold as we collide.

“Luke! Calm down!” He shouts as I struggle to get around him, his arms holding me tight to his body.

“NO! It’s Hannah! Please tell me it isn’t her!”

His eyes close as the organ in my chest aches before turning black. “NO!”

“I’m sorry, Luke. She’s gone. It looks like she died on impact.”

“No, she… she can’t be gone. You’re lying!” And then an even worse thought occurs. “The baby! Grayson! Was he with her?” I ask frantically, praying my three-month-old son wasn’t in the backseat.

He shakes his head. “No. There’s a base to an infant car seat in the back, but no carrier.”

“Oh my God.” A sudden wave of relief hits me when I realize my son wasn’t with her, but it’s short lived when I realize my wife is still dead.

“Hannah!” I throw my head back and scream into the sky, tears pouring from my eyes as Lenny wraps me in his arms and helps me to the ground. But the next few moments are all a blur as the sharpest pain I’ve ever felt radiates from my chest, blanketing me in a darkness I’ve never felt, and slicing through me with such precision, I don’t know what part of me hurts the worst.

“Hannah,” I sob, wiping my eyes at just the right moment to see the firemen place a yellow tarp over her body still situated in her seat, her head with closed eyes hanging lazily to the side of her neck out the window, her spine clearly broken, blood dripping down her face.

“FUCK! NO!” I try to stand again and run to her, but several more responders come over now, wrestling me to the ground as I fight them with all the adrenaline running through me until all I can do is lie there, forced to accept that my wife is gone, my son is still alive, and my life as I know it has changed.

“Fuck!” I shout as I launch up in bed, surprised I didn’t startle Rachel with the movement and my outburst. Her soft snores continue beside me as my chest heaves and I reach up to feel the wetness on my cheeks. I was crying in my sleep, much like I did that night, the night that altered the world I lived in forever.

Struggling to catch my breath, I take a few deep inhales through my nose and out of my mouth before I feel stable enough to stand. “Son of a bitch.” I slowly move from the bed and make my way to the bathroom, bending down to splash cold water on my face before I stare at myself in the mirror.

It’s been months since I had that dream, and the fact that it occurred the night I finally slept with another woman is not lost on me right now. But Rachel isn’t just any woman. She’s a woman I’m falling for, but this has to mean something.

What a stark reminder of what I lost when I finally feel like I’m ready to move on? What a clear indication that the woman who used to be my wife will forever be etched into my memory and can pop up at any time, like tonight?

I make my way into the kitchen and decide to brew some coffee, looking at the clock and realizing it’s already four in the morning, so there’s really not much point in trying to go back to sleep. Sipping my cup, I stare across the biggest room in my house as I rest my back against the island, surveying the home I bought for Hannah and myself and anticipated filling with memories of our life together. And yet, some plans just don’t come to fruition.

Yet the memories that are being made here now involve my son, myself, and a woman that is part of our lives in every way like Hannah would have been if she were here. I know I shouldn’t read too much into that dream, like the timing isn’t imperative in what I should be feeling after enjoying sex with another woman, basking in how alive I felt after almost five years of darkness. But there’s an inkling in my spine that maybe this is the sign Hannah is giving me that I asked for. And I’m not sure if it’s the sign I was anticipating.