Page 116 of When We Crash

Only once I lowered myself to sit did the someone I was looking for look back. Eyes that used to love seeing me now widened and glanced away. I stood, feeling my world crumbling even though the building and its foundation never shook. Miranda grabbed me and urged me with her eyes to sit. I looked over at him again and noticed Rachel sitting next to him, her hand rubbing circles on his back.

Bitch.

What am I doing here?

I wanted to cry and run out. But I wasn’t going to risk my child harm, so I sat back and listened to the ceremony. There were plenty of tears shed; even my own eyes watered. Molly had been a lovely woman, and the world was brighter when she was in it.

Greg Senior went up to the podium, and though his speech was short, it was a kick in the chest. “Molly, I miss our boy. And now I’m missing you.” He looked down and dabbed at his eyes with a balled-up tissue. “But I know I was lucky enough to have you both for as long as I did, even if others are given more than what I got. So, I’ll see you both next time around.” He stepped off and my emotions were everywhere.

Once the ceremony was finished, we were told where to proceed for the burial. Miranda looked at me curiously and I shook my head. This was all I was willing to offer. I saw Ralph head toward us, and I hoped he wouldn’t make me stand. My eyes flew to where Dexter was sitting, but he wasn’t there anymore. Rachel was, though, and when she saw me, her eyes widened just as Dexter’s had. I wanted to flip her the bird, but I turned to face Ralph again, still seated. I didn’t know where Dexter was, but I hoped he left already. Or maybe he’d catch another glimpse of me—from the chest up, of course—and ignore me.

Maybe he’ll think the baby isn’t his.

Yeah, right.

It wasn’t until Ralph sidestepped that I saw Dexter behind him, headed for us with a cool gaze. My heart hit my feet. I stood and turned away, struggling through the throng of people. Dexter, in those few moments, saw my red face, my pregnant belly, and my wide bottom—courtesy of carrying his child—as I tried to scoot around everyone.

Once I got outside, the rain was downpouring. People were rushing to their cars, wrestling with umbrellas, or standing inside the doorway. I didn’t waste time making my way down the road. The water flooding the streets made my flip flops squish, and I kicked them off with a hurried impatience. I gathered the sopping wet black cotton of my maxi dress skirt and hobbled off.

I remembered this place, the very building I’d just walked away from was where I said goodbye to Tim. When I heard someone call after me, I continued to waddle away as fast as I could. I felt like Cinderella running away without my shoes. Except I couldn’t run and there wasn’t a prince following me. Just a man who’d destroyed me more times than I could count.

I stopped at the wooden bridge, feeling déjà vu and nostalgia. Tim was here, the one person I wanted to run to. The rain ran down my body and I cried. I didn’t know where the rain began and my tears ended. I looked out and noticed the river’s water was dangerously high. It rushed on while the wind howled around me. My hair was stuck to my skull, my face, my back. The gray sky divided momentarily as a white bolt of lightning cracked through it. Thunder rumbled and I shivered.

“Noa!” Dexter was behind me and I leaned my head toward him, watching him walk up slowly before stopping a few feet away at the start of the bridge. He’d removed his black suit jacket, and I could see the shape of him beneath his damp clothes. That body that had loved mine, both taking and giving.

I turned, my hands on my belly.

There had been a time for words.

That blue fire swallowed me whole until I was nothing but ash. I didn’t turn into a phoenix. I was left to scatter in the wind. And in the end, red took the place of blue.

“It’s too late,” I said, hoping he’d stay where he was—and he did. “Just leave me alone. Go marry Rachel.” I looked away, my eyes on the water again.

“I’m not marrying Rachel,” I heard him say, his voice full of confusion.

“Stop it. I saw the ring. This thing,” I whipped around to face him again, “it’sdone.I’m done.” I felt the sob ripping from my throat and it angered me. I’d cried too long and too hard for him. “You’ve left me for the last time, Dexter Andrews.”

“I never gave her a ring!”

I turned to run away from his all-too-convincing lies, and once I heard the crack of metal against wood and the shifting under my feet, I knew that it really was too late.

A boat had made its way downriver and crashed into the bridge.

I heard Dexter scream my name—and then I was under water. I kicked out my feet and reached up, trying to grab something, anything. My hands found what was left of the bridge, and I tried to hang on. I looked up and saw Dexter’s hand. It was too far. Even as I touched his fingertips, my fingers were too wet for him to grab.

I’m going to die.

I looked at his blue eyes that burned like our fire and I cried out for my baby, who would die like Anna had. I couldn’t hold on any longer.

I was submerged, my grip having slipped from the damp wood. I didn’t fight. I’d fought death one too many times. I relaxed and the water rushed around me, carrying me away.

I saw the old man floating closer to me, his arms reaching for me. Peace settled as he took my hand. He smiled and I closed my eyes.

We were walking tragedies. That was what made us such passionate beings. The unbearable clock ticking—reminding us of our mortality—made love sweeter, lust headier, and happiness something we wanted to last for as long as we did. We knew our days were numbered, and we knew our individual stories ended at some point. Maybe not in detail or why or how or when. But at least we could agree that death, in whatever form, always won.

Dexter was right.

I didn’t want to die.

But some decisions were never really mine to make.