Begging and Tears
Rowan held me tightly, his hand running through my hair, his presence steady and warm against the cold numbness settling in my bones. “I know, Remi. I know.” He sat with me there, right on the roadside, his arms wrapping around me as if he could hold the broken pieces of me together.
Through blurry eyes, I looked up and saw the fire. It roared into the sky, and it felt like I was watching her spirit, her beautiful, kind, brilliant spirit, slip away into that blaze. She should’ve been safe, she should’ve been surrounded by friends and family, dancing, celebrating her new life. And instead… this.
The emergency crews arrived, spraying water over the wreckage, the hiss of steam mixing with my own ragged breathing. The fire began to die, and with it, the last glimmer of hope I’d been holding onto that somehow, miraculously, she’d come stumbling out of the car. The devastation settled in with an iron weight.
And then I heard a car screech to a halt nearby. I glanced up through my tears to see Charles, staggering out, his face pale as he took in the scene. His gaze darted to the smoking remains of the car, then landed on me, stricken and hollow.
“You…” My voice came out in a hoarse whisper, but the anger, the grief, and the betrayal poured into that single word. I stood, pulling free from Rowan’s hold, and stumbled toward Charles, my hands reaching out. “You! This is your fault!”
He just stood there, frozen as I grabbed the front of his shirt, my nails digging into the fabric, my breath coming in harsh gasps. “She’s dead because of you!”
“Remi…” His voice cracked, his eyes wide, full of shock and horror.
But I didn’t want to hear it. I clawed at him, the pain, the betrayal blinding me as I screamed, “You cheated! You lied! She trusted you! You were supposed to protect her!” My hands scraped across his face, leaving red trails as I lashed out, my fury and agony fueling every desperate motion.
He stood there, taking it, his expression broken, but I didn’t care. I wanted him to feel even a fraction of the hurt he’d caused. I raised my hand to hit him again, but then I felt Rowan’s arms wrap around me, pulling me back.
“Remi, stop,” he murmured, his voice low but firm. But I struggled, not ready to let go, not ready to release the only outlet I had for the devastation consuming me.
And then, Rowan’s hand left me. He stepped forward, his jaw clenched, and before Charles could react, Rowan’s fist collided with his face, sending him staggering back. Charles fell to the ground, stunned, blood trickling from his lip.
“You coward,” Rowan growled, his voice seething with disgust. “You don’t deserve her. You never did. If you know you wanted to fuck me, you should have stayed with them. Not make someone feel so good and then break them.”
Charles barely had time to react before Rowan kicked him in the ribs, his anger uncontained. The sound of each blow echoed, harsh and final, but no one moved to stop him. The paramedics, the police, the bystanders—they all watched in silence, as if they understood that this was retribution in its purest form.
Finally, Rowan stopped, his shoulders heaving, his face dark with fury. He turned back to me, his expression softening as he shrugged off his jacket, wrapping it around my bare shoulders. His hand lingered on my arm, grounding me, pulling me back to something solid.
Paramedics moved toward the wreckage, their voices tense as they surveyed the damage. I barely heard them, my vision blurred with tears, but bits and pieces of their conversation floated to me, jagged and cruel.
“It was electrical,” one of them said, his tone grave. “A major malfunction. She’s lucky she didn’t…”
Another voice murmured in response, but I couldn’t make out the words. My heart felt like it was shattering all over again, each phrase cutting deeper.
“She’s... could she...?” I forced the words out, barely able to finish. “Could she survive?”
The paramedic looked over, his face a filled with pity as he took in my disheveled appearance, but maintained his professionalism. “We’ll do everything we can, but… the damage is extensive. She would need… a miracle.”
A miracle.
I’d never put much stock in miracles, but standing there, staring at the remnants of Claire’s car, I wanted to believe.
I needed to believe that somehow, she could pull through. Because if anyone deserved a miracle, it was her.
I sank to my knees, Rowan’s jacket slipping from my shoulders, and buried my face in my hands, the weight of it all pressing down on me like a physical force.
Rowan knelt beside me, his hand resting on my back, his silent support grounding me as I crumbled.
“She was… she was my best friend,” I whispered, barely able to get the words out. “I can’t lose her, Rowan. I can’t.”
His hand moved gently over my back, his voice low, steady. “I know, Remi. I know.”
We sat there, side by side, in the shadow of the smoking wreckage, surrounded by the echoes of what had been and what could never be again. And for the first time in my life, I felt completely, utterly broken.
****
The fluorescent lights in the hospital hallway burned overhead, cold and unyielding, casting stark shadows on the linoleum floor as I paced. My mind whirled with the details, the endless list of injuries Claire had sustained.
Every word the doctors had shared stabbed into me: extensive burns, internal bleeding, shattered ribs, a punctured lung, a massive brain bleed. And now, the chance of survival hung by a thread, so faint it felt more like a taunt than hope.
I felt Rowan's steadying presence next to me as the surgeon explained the severity of Claire's injuries, but I barely heard it. All I could see was the image of her broken, still face, the faintest flicker of life left in her body.
The doctors looked at me with something like pity when I asked- begged-to be the one to operate.
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