2. Andrew

Andrew

I watched it all happen in slow motion. She was going too fast, and the truck ran the stop sign. Becca began screaming almost immediately, grabbing onto me for comfort—but I already had my door open and was running. I had to get to her. I can't lose her like this. Not like this.

When I reach her car, it's upside down, and she's hanging by her seatbelt. There's blood and broken glass everywhere. Her phone is still lit up—our call still connected.

I start pulling on her door. I have to get her out, but it won't budge.

The driver from the truck stumbles over, yelling, "I'm so sorry—I looked down for a minute and didn't see the stop sign was so close. Fuck, is she okay? Let me help get her out!"

I see red. I don't answer him. Right now, all I need is for the love of my life to be alive and in my arms.

I run around to the passenger side. The door opens, and I crawl in. There is glass everywhere, and I'm sure I'm getting cut up—but all I can see is my Claire.

I reach for her face. I can't breathe.

"Claire? Wake up for me. It's Drew, baby, please open those beautiful hazel eyes for me, baby."

She doesn't move. I can't breathe. I reach for her seatbelt to free her—and realize it's jammed.

Claire always said, "If I ever get into a bad accident, use this cool seatbelt cutter thing I ordered off TikTok." I search around, and sure enough, taped to her dashboard is that damn belt cutter. I had made fun of her for ordering random shit off that app, but I've never been happier that her over-preparedness paid off.

I cut the seatbelt just as the fire department and ambulance arrive. The firefighters begin getting her out from her side, and I crawl out the passenger side.

I run to where they're pulling her out as the EMTs step in. She's breathing—shallow, but she's alive. Tears begin running down my face as I reach for her bloody hand.

"Do you know her?" one of the EMTs asks.

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"Yes, I do. She's my fiancée," I reply.

Claire and I have been together for four years, and tonight I had planned to ask her to marry me. I had it all set up—and now I might have to plan her funeral.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuckkk!

I should've stayed with her. She asked me not to leave her side tonight, and I promised her I wouldn't. It was my sister's wedding. I wasn't in the wedding party, so there was no reason for me not to be attached to her hip—or at least close by.

But once again, Becca called... and I went running. And now, that might cost me the love of my life. Even if she survives this, I'm terrified I'll lose her anyway.

"Sir, we're taking her to Mont. Fuk—are you coming in here, or will you be following in your car?"

He looks over to my car. Becca's still sitting there, crying.

Fuck. I forgot she was even there.

"I'll follow behind you. Sir, she's the love of my life. Please... keep her alive. I need her."

He nods and climbs into the ambulance. As I watch his partner shut the doors and run to the driver's seat, I let the tears fall. I hear the sirens begin to wail and I watch them drive away—with my heart.

I run back to my car and begin to follow—when Becca speaks.

"Drewy... I think I'm pregnant."

And just like that, 

I'm fucked