There’s a rhythmic motion in my hair, soft and gentle. My head is pounding. My hands feel like they're broken, or at the very least ripped to hell. I can tell immediately I’m in my bed, but it’s not my pillow supporting my head. 

It’s Windy’s lap.

I don’t know how she got me here. I know she didn’t carry me, she’s not that strong. 

My arm is tucked in under my chin, her fingers gliding through my hair. 

She deserves an explanation. The one I never gave. Of all the things I’ve told her about you, and of all the things I’ve still yet to tell her, this is something she deserves to know.

“He was hit by a car,” I say softly. Her fingers pause and then resume. I know she’s awake, I know she’s listening. She always does. “We were on the phone,” I continue, the tears filling my eyes. I don’t care. It’s been years and they’ve been waiting to come loose. “Chase and I were on a street corner about two or three blocks away on our way to meet him at the groom’s store to make the last payment on his suit and to make sure everything was done right. He was never a picky person, but this was something he couldn’t allow to be wrong.”

There’s a soft exhalation of breath and her stomach muscles contract. It’s a small laugh, but not one meant to be offensive. As alike to you as she is, I know it’s a chuckle of complete understanding.

I close my eyes, the memory so vivid in my mind.

“You know they’re not going to mess this up, babe,” I laugh.

“I know, but I just want to be sure,” you chuckle. “I also talked to the baker about the cake.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm. He had a few questions about the final design and the topper.”

I groan. “Oh yeah.”

“What?”

“Uh, I kinda forgot to order it.”

Chase rolls his eyes, a smirk on his face. He mouths the word, “Figures.”

You sigh. “Harley.”

“I’ll get it, don’t worry,” I chuckle reassuringly. “Promise.”

I can hear his smile through the phone. “I trust you, love.”

“The car came out of nowhere,” I say to Windy. “I could hear it screeching in the background but neither of us paid it any mind. You know how drivers in this city can be.”

She says nothing but I know she’s nodding.

“Idiot drivers,” you mutter.

“Someone acting a fool?”

“As always.”

I laugh. “Just be careful. He could be a drunken moron for all you know.” I share a grin with Chase who presses the button for the walk sign a few more times. And I thought I was the impatient one.

“He was drunk,” I say, the tears running hot over my nose. “He wasn’t paying attention. Robin had the signal to walk…”

“D’you want to stop at that new sandwich shop?” you ask.

“The one close to the house?” I’m staring at the signal screen across the road, willing it to change. I want to get to you as soon as possible. It’s been hours and I just want to be with you again.

“Yeah, I heard good things.”

“Sure, we can do that…”

“He was swerving all over the place,” I whisper. I close my eyes, the scene replaying in my head. Her fingers are shaking slightly in my hair but she doesn’t stop playing with it. She knows that it’s calming to me.

He gasps. “Oh, no,” he whispers.

“Robin?” I say, suddenly nervous. “Everything okay?”

SCREEEECH! THUD! CRACK! CRASH! CLATTER CLATTER CLATTER! “AHH! OH MY GOD, SOMEONE HELP!”

A sob breaks free from my chest and I bite at my lower lip. 

“Robin?” Pause. My breath is heavy, my heart pounding. “Robin? Are you there? What’s going on? Baby, are you there?” My voice is rising, panic flooding my body.

There’s nothing but chaos on the other end. Panicked screaming and shouting for someone to call 911. I can hear a voice, a woman’s voice, asking if you’re okay. Can you hear her? What’s your name?

“Robin?” I cry out, my chest aching. Something’s wrong…so very, very wrong. Chase is saying something, asking what’s happening, I think, but I’m not paying attention. I stare at the signal screen. Fucking change!!!

“He’d run over Robin and never stopped,” I sob. “He didn’t slow down, he didn’t look back. Just kept going.”

“Did someone get the license plate?” someone asks.

All I hear is screaming, nonsensical commotion and sirens. Someone asks if you’re okay but it sounds too far away. “Robin?” I start to yell, trying to get your attention. If not yours, someone’s. I look around me but I can’t focus. What street am I on? Where was that shop you mentioned? I’ll meet you there…I’m supposed to meet you there.

No…god, fuck, no! 

“ROBIN!” I start running. I don’t care anymore, I need to get to you. Chase calls after me. There’s a honk, someone cussing, Chase apologizing, running after me.

“A woman,” I sniff, gasping for air. “A woman picked up his phone. It was cracked and damaged but still working.”

“Robin! What’s going on? Where are you? Baby, answer me!”

“Hello?”

That isn’t your voice. My throat closes. “Who is this? Where’s Robin?”

There’s a long pause. In the background there’s more noise, more chaos. “I’m…so sorry, but…” 

I start running…no…you’re fine. You’re not hurt. She’s lying, being nasty just because she can. Humans suck, we know that.

“She said he wasn’t breathing. That he was already gone. I didn’t believe her. I didn’t hang up, I just ran.” I have one arm around her back, my fingers clutching at her side. “By the time I got there, he was already gone. The EMT’s arrived at the same time but I dove for him first. His eyes…” I let out a loud sob. “His eyes were empty. His body was still warm, still limp when I grabbed him. I held him, kissed him, begged him not to leave me…not to go…” I turn my face into her leg. I can feel her body begin to shake. Felt the tear that landed in my hair.

“The EMT’s had to pull me away to get him in the ambulance. They took him out of my arms and threw him on a stretcher. They did everything they could, I know that but…” I gritted my teeth as I sobbed, my other arm wrapping around her stomach as I curled into myself. “He was gone,” I croaked. “My Robin was gone.”

I hear her sniff back her tears, her hand flattening against the side of my head and slide to my neck. She said nothing. Not one word. That was perfect.

I sob. Crying out every single tear I couldn’t release in over two years. My body spasms, shakes, and trembles until it hurts. I don’t bother to keep my sobs quiet. Why should I? I trust Windy more than anyone. She’s my best friend, the one I love most in the world outside of you. I don’t know how long I cried, but eventually I passed back out, my arms still wrapped around her.

When I come to, she hasn’t moved. Her hand is warm on my arm, her fingers moving up and down my skin. My head hurts worse than ever and my eyes burn. I don’t know if I moved or if my breathing changed, but somehow she knows I’m  awake.

“I remember a story,” she says softly, “about a drunk driver that ran over a pedestrian downtown. So many people tried to blame the victim, that he wasn’t paying attention, pointing to the fact that he was still on a call when it happened. I just couldn’t believe that. I couldn’t believe that someone would be so irresponsible as to not pay enough attention to a drunk driver swerving all over the road, and that close to the sidewalk. The victim had only just stepped into the crosswalk, they said. He hadn’t gotten ten feet into the street when he was struck. How could he be at fault? Still, humans are hateful and they tried to put some of the blame on him. It made me sick.

“The driver was eventually caught. It was months later, of course, after he struck down another pedestrian.” I could hear the cynicism in her voice. 

“A child?”

“Mhm. No one cares if an adult gets run over. But if a kid gets hurt, it’s a totally different story. He was arrested and charged with four counts of vehicular manslaughter.”

I tense. 

“Yep. Four. The asshole hit two other people that died aside from Robin and the little girl, and no one did a damn thing. They had his plate number, a description, everything, but he wasn’t stopped until a six year old little girl died.”

I turn my face into her leg and tighten my hold on her. “That’s not fair,” I whisper.

“No, it isn’t,” she agrees. “If he’d been caught sooner, Robin would still be alive, I guarantee it. You’d be married and living in a nice house with a white picket fence and a couple of kids running around.”

I can’t help but grin slightly. “Robin hated kids.”

Her stomach muscles tense, indicating another silent chuckle. “But he loved Heather and Ivan.”

“More than anything,” I say. “But he never wanted to have kids of our own, which was totally fine with me. I wasn’t about to share him with anyone.”

“Possessive much?”

“Completely.”

Her fingers stop moving and she rests her hand on my shoulder. “There’s not one thing I can say or do that will ever make your pain go away, Lee. What you’ve gone through is unimaginable. I don’t blame you at all for making the choices you have, as unhealthy as they may be.”

I snort softly. 

“But,” she adds after a brief pause, “I will say that you’ve gone way too far with your drinking as a way to cope with it all.”

I relax my hold slightly. “I know,” I whisper.

“Am I really like Robin?”

I hesitate a moment before nodding. “Very.”

“Then listen to my words and hear his voice.” She pauses and my eyes shift up slightly. “Heal.”

I flinch, my eyes turning down again.

“Whatever it takes, whatever you need to do, start healing yourself, Harley. I know you want to hate Robin for leaving but it’s not his fault he’s gone. It’s the driver’s fault. Don’t hate Robin. Never hate him. Heal from your loss, move past your pain, but don’t for one second hate him.”

I don’t respond. There’s nothing I can say, especially since she’s right. I can’t stop loving you no matter how badly I want to. I can’t hate you. I can’t blame you for leaving. I can’t blame you for the choices I’ve made since you left. 

But I’m still so fucking hurt that you’re gone. Our life together is gone. Our future is gone. Every plan we ever made, every dream we had, all of it turned to dust. All I have left of you is pictures and a box of ashes sitting on a shelf in a room I don’t go in. You’re gone, Robin. Forever. I can’t have you back, no matter how many times I beg and plead and pray and wish. Some fucking bastard no one cared to stop until some kid got involved stole you from me. He stole it all from me.

“I can’t…move on,” I whisper into her thigh.

“I know,” she responds. 

“I want him back, Bug.” The sobs come afresh as she scoots down, shifting so I can lay my head on her stomach and she holds me. “I want my Robin back!” 

She kisses my forehead and turns to hold me tighter. 

I cry, turn my face into her stomach and release one muffled scream after another. Her body shakes as she cries with me.

*