Текст книги "Give Me Yesterday"

Автор книги: K. Webster

Соавторы: Elle Christensen
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Текущая страница: 13 (всего у книги 15 страниц)

The world shifts under my feet.

A silver truck behind the SUV, the sound of screeching breaks pierces the air as the truck spins and the next time I blink, there are three vehicles twisted together in the center of the thoroughfare.

There is ringing in my ears, a sound so loud that my head is splitting open from the pain.

A figure lays unmoving on the ground three feet away from the wreck. The large frame of a man, wrapped around a tiny lump of sunshine yellow fabric.

The sound grows louder, my throat feels as though it is being ripped to shreds, and I realize that the sound is screaming.

It’s me, screaming.

My bare knees hit the ground hard and I barely register the sharp pain of glass digging into the flesh. The only thing I feel is numbness. There is blood, it’s all over the ground, all over them. Someone pulls on my arms and I think they tell me not to move them, but how can I stay away. My heart is on the ground in front of me, and I need to know that it is still beating.

“Oh, God. Oh, God.” I’m pleading, pleading for this to not be real. I feel arms trying to surround me but I fight them off with all of my strength. “No, this can’t be happening, God, please don’t let this be real.”

“Tori! Baby, please don’t do this, please. I can’t lose you.”

Chase’s anguished voice floats around me, but I’m so lost in the pain, the sobs heaving from deep in my soul. How could the universe be so fucking twisted?

I fell in love with the man who killed my family.

There is an ugliness that is surfacing, feelings so black that they frighten me. “You—you can’t be the one who hurt me. Y—you healed me. Now you’ve destroyed me, again!” I’m screaming at him, my world once again falling to pieces around me. Only this time, I know I’ll never recover, because Chase is the love of my life. I was tied to Ben by my heart, but I’m tied to Chase with my whole fucking soul.

“Baby, I don’t understand.”

My shoulders are jerking, Chase shaking me frantically. I look at him through the tears falling from my eyes, and I see desperate, panicked fear on his face. “What do you mean again?” He’s yelling now, his voice coated in fear and despair. Good. Let him feel the pain he has caused me.

“You killed my family!” I scream, thrashing out at him with my fist, nails, anything that will get him away from me.

Chase scrambles back in a crab walk, and falls to the ground. His face goes ashen, all the color draining from him, just like the color drained from Ben and Sarah. I attempt to get up off of the ground and end up on my hands and knees, panting hard, trying regain my breath. But, I’m crying so hard I can’t get a decent amount into my lungs. The pain is excruciating. There is no molecule on my body that isn’t burning with anger, with pain, with the utter fucking disaster that is this world.

It’s not just Chase, it’s the realization that that my life is meant to be filled with nothing, or with pain. There is no option number three. When it came to passing out happiness, apparently my bucket was already too full of misery. Only this time, this time I opened myself up so much that I don’t know how to close the wounds again. There is a searing fire that is down deep in the depths of me, breaking me beyond recognition.

I’m finally able to regain my feet and I grab the flowers that Chase brought from where he’d dropped them before following me to the ground. Daffodils. How did I not put it together? Every week, I lay the purple flowers next to bouquets of yellow daffodils. I crush them in my hand.

“Tori, I tried—you disappeared. I wanted to—”

“Stop!” The tears are drying up, and the ice is working its way through my body. Slowly, I become like stone, the woman who everyone sees, the viper, Ice Queen, bitch, take your pick. “I went back to my maiden name,” I say matter of fact. “I left it all behind. Then you came along and forced me to face it all, to relive the pain, share it, fucking fall in love again! Only to have it be the final straw in the sick joke that is my life. I’m done.”

“Are you happy now?” I’m screaming at the sky now, asking anyone, whomever, whatever is out there, “I’m fucking done! You can’t hurt me anymore, because I have nothing left to lose.”

“Tori, I love you. We can work this out. Please,” Chase begs. “You promised you’d never leave me.”

I toss the ruined flowers at his feet. “And you promised you’d never hurt me.”

The weather in the city of Chicago is an ever-changing beast, it could be the middle of July and when the sun dips below the horizon it can be cold. Just like it is now, on a May night, when I’m shivering from the wind whipping through my bones as I walk along the lake front. I revel in it though, the cold seeping in, freezing me, strengthening the ice inside.

I’m numb, just the way I want to be.

I ran from Chase in the cemetery. Ran all the way out of the expansive greens and to a gas station down the road. I called Stacey and she was able to come pick me up. As I lowered myself into the seat of her car, I noticed the Challenger that was sitting in the parking lot, idling. Chase’s devastated face tugged at my heartstrings, but I tightened the pegs so they were strung so taut, they have no give.

Inside the car, Stacey didn’t even try to hide her curiosity and kept glancing between me and the black car with wide eyes. “Thanks for coming, Stacey,” I bit out. “Let’s get the fuck out of here.” With one last worried glance, she nodded and started the car.

I’d had her drop me at my building, but I couldn’t bring myself to go up. So, I wandered down to the waterfront, though I’m not sure what the fuck I thought I’d find here. The dark expanse of water is cold and uninviting, the park is empty of pedestrians, with the exception of a few teenagers drinking and getting high. I traipse back to my apartment and try to forget what it was like when Chase had me pressed up against the wall. As I enter my home, I try to forget how it felt like to cuddle on my couch with Chase, to eat Chinese food on a blanket on the floor.

I move into the hallway and stare at the door to my bedroom. It feels like there is invisible caution tape over the door, WARNING: Memories that will shatter you lie ahead. I don’t know how long I stand there, but eventually I make my way into the kitchen, a room that was rarely used until Chase started spending time at my apartment. I need a place where he isn’t surrounding me! I open a cabinet and grab a bottle of whatever, and make a beeline for my guest room. Plopping down on the floor, my back against the bed, I check the label. Vodka, perfect.

Hours later, I pour the last shot and toss it down. My cell phone sits on the ground in front of me and I continually watch it light up. Chase, Stacey, Chase, Chase, Stacey, Chase…. It’s getting harder for my finger to connect with the reject button, but I squint and try to meet the two despite the way they both wobble about. A giggle slips out and I think maybe I’m really, really drunk. I like this feeling, it’s so much better than the alternative.

L ife’s not fair.

That’s the fucking understatement of the century.

As I pace my bedroom floor, I have the urge to destroy the entire goddamned room. Everything reminds me of her. Her big-ass unpacked box of shoes sitting in the corner. A handful of bobby pins scattered about the nightstand. Pink panties still on the floor beside my boxers from when we woke up and made love on the way to the shower.

I stomp out of the room and away from the heartache, only to find myself staring at the yellow wall.

When I clench my eyes closed, I see the bright, sunshiny color of little Sarah’s dress and its beautiful and perfect. Yet, when I open my eyes, I can’t match the fucking color. I snap my eyes shut again and my heart seizes in my chest as I remember the little girl, so out of place on the busy road. Smiling the world’s most adorable, toothy grin. Shiny strawberry curls bouncing on her head. Her sweet, yellow dress that made her prettier than any flower on God’s green earth.

My breath is sucked from me when I remember how it felt to realize it was too late. That no matter how hard I yanked on the wheel to avoid them, my car would flip and crush them anyway. I remember the moment I came to after a medically induced coma, days later, in the hospital after countless surgeries, to successfully remove the piece of metal from my skull and the first words out of my mouth were, Please God, let them be okay.

Turns out, they were not fucking okay.

I killed them.

I killed a man and his sweet, baby girl.

In front of his wife. In front of her mother.

Fucking sick!

When Ashley came to see me, I cried and cried and it had nothing to do with the raging shit-storm of a never-ending migraine that possessed my brain. She regarded me with her own tearstained cheeks.

You killed them, she’d said.

You slaughtered that woman’s entire family, she’d said.

I’d begged her to forgive me. Tried to explain to her that it was an accident. And still, she told me she would never be able to get over knowing I’d killed a man and a little girl—accident or not. That night she dropped her ring, along with my dreams, into my lap.

As I pop my eyes back open and stare at the taunting yellow wall, I choke back a tortured wail that threatens to rip straight from my soul. Scrambling, I locate my phone and try for the hundredth time to reach my Tori. To make her understand.

When the line picks up on the third ring, I launch into begging. But drunk giggles in the background are all that can be heard.

“Tori,” I say loudly in hopes she’ll hear me and listen. “Please forgive me, baby. I had no idea you were the woman—the woman I took everything from. You have to believe me when I say there was no time to react. I tried. For fuck’s sake I tried but I couldn’t get away from them in time.”

Her blubbering to herself gets softer and softer until I soon hear her running a bath. I clutch the phone to my ear and quietly listen to the sounds that are her. All of her makeup is here. Her hair shit. Her bathing products. Hell, even her toothbrush is here.

I stand on shaky feet, the phone still desperately attached to my ear as I search out a suitcase. After I unzip it, I toss it onto the bed and begin loading it with the things she’ll need. I toss a couple of pairs of shoes in the suitcase but I plan on holding the rest for ransom. At least until she talks to me.

“Why?” I hear her sob in the background and I collapse onto the bed at hearing her voice again.

Because…life’s not fair.

My heart aches in my chest.

As she begs God to leave her the fuck alone, I am jerked into the gutting memory from hours earlier at the cemetery.

“Are you happy now?” she screams up at the sky. “I’m fucking done! You can’t hurt me anymore, because I have nothing left to lose.”

Me. You have me.

I reach for her. “Tori, I love you. We can work this out. Please. You promised you’d never leave me.”

She jerks her head toward me and murders me with her gaze. Her bloodshot eyes are hate-filled and my entire being crushes from one simple look. “And you promised you’d never hurt me.”

The smashed daffodils are thrown at my feet as she stalks away from me, her wails nearly waking the dead. And I stare after her, arms outstretched, begging for her to come back to me.

When her crying can no longer be heard and only my sobbing is left, I stand on shaky feet and stumble my way back to the car. I climb in and sit there for minutes or hours or fucking eons for all I know.

I found the one woman who understands my pain. Who completes me in every sense of the word. And I killed her goddamned family.

Life isn’t fair, Mother.

Life is a cruel fucking bitch.

Swiping moisture away from my swollen eyes beneath my glasses, I zip up the suitcase and head for the living room. I set it down and stride over to my bookcase. Thumbing through the paint swatches bearing Xs, I snatch one up and scribble on the back.

Tori,

Forgive me, please.

Life is fucking worthless without you.

Give me yesterday and I’ll give you forever.

I love you more than I will ever be able to express.

Chase

I stuff it into the suitcase on top of her makeup shit and zip it back closed. The drive to her place is a blur and before I know it, I’m walking by the front desk where I’m waved in since Tori put me on the permanent visitor’s list. I’m a little surprised she hasn’t had me taken off of it yet. Now, I’m standing in front of her door.

It’s quiet on the other side. I want to beat down the door and demand she forgives me, but I know better. My Tori’s too strong to go down without a fight.

And I don’t want to fight with her. I want to love her.

I lean the suitcase against the door and text her telling her it’s there.

Please, God, let her come back to me.

A week without Tori is like an eternity in hell.

I can’t eat. Or sleep. Or fucking breathe for that matter.

Cort and Penelope have both come by with food. Advice. A shoulder to cry on.

But it’s not enough. I need her.

This morning was fucking torture dragging myself out of my bed, away from her scent that still lingers on my sheets, to go to group. Honestly, I’m holding on to some shred of hope that she’ll actually show up. That she’ll give me a chance to hug her.

I want to comfort her.

Kiss her.

Tell her how sorry I am.

I want to make love to her—to have my soul attach itself to hers forever.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in,” Bill chuckles when I enter the room.

My eyes scan the room—searching for my blue-eyed angel—and eventually fall on her empty seat. The coffee I sucked down earlier without breakfast grumbles in my stomach, threatening to reappear at any moment.

“Hey,” I finally manage to say to him before walking dejectedly to the podium.

All eyes are on me as I rest my elbows on the wood. I lift my gaze to see them all wearing matching frowns. They know it has to do with Tori. I can see it written all over their faces. Little do they know, it has everything to do with Tori.

She is my everything.

Was.

“Shit,” I hiss under my breath and run my fingers through my dirty hair. Bathing is a chore these days.

“Chase, is everything okay?” Belinda asks from behind me.

I turn to her with a frown and shake my head. “No. No, it isn’t.”

She pulls me in for a hug and I let out a ragged sigh.

“Maybe you should let it all out. We’re your friends here,” she reminds me when she lets me go.

I nod and turn back to their expectant, caring faces.

“Guys, I fucked up.”

They remain silent and wait for me to continue.

“It was me. I killed her family.” I gasp, shocking myself at my revelation. “How could we not know? How could God let us fall in love only to rip us apart?”

The room is a buzz of chatter before Nate speaks up. “Dr. Monroe, you didn’t know. Did you?”

I snap my head up to him. “Fuck no! I spent the last decade looking for the woman who witnessed the most devastating thing a mother and wife should ever have to go through. For ten goddamned years I have been searching for her to tell her I’m so sorry. Turns out, Tori didn’t want to be found. She wanted to carve out a new life for herself which didn’t involve heartache. Unfortunately, I found her. But not as the woman I’d been searching for since the accident. I found her instead as my soulmate. My lover. My angel. When I took her to the grave—to tell her what I’m grieving for, the heavens ripped open and tore us apart.”

Jerking off my glasses, I swipe away rogue tears.

“I love her and it’s all a cruel fucking joke from that bitch called fate.”

One by one, they all stand and herd over to me. The next hour goes by in a haze of hugs, words of advice, and prayers. These people, my friends, offer their support in a way no others can. I clutch on to them and frantically bandage the hemorrhaging wound in my heart.

“Chase,” Claudia finally says. “Fate brought you two together, through everything. Do you really think she’ll tear you apart? I know your story will be a happy one. You and Tori both deserve a happy ending. And I believe that the happiness that lies in each other, won’t be found in any other person. She’ll come around, Chase. You’re worth the heartache and pain. I just know she’ll see that too.”

I kiss her graying hair on top of her head and hug her fiercely. “I sure hope so.”

It’s Sunday. The day I would normally visit my family. The day after I would usually go to group. The day that represents a whole week without Chase.

I drive around the neighborhood where the cemetery is, but I can’t bring myself to go inside. So, I keep driving. I’m not sure where I’m going, practically letting the car steer itself. I end up in a residential area that is all too familiar to me and I silently yell at my subconscious for being such a hag. Why would she bring me here? It hurts her too.

I avoid looking at the place on the side of the road where a little memorial sits in remembrance of the accident and the lives lost. However, instead of passing by, I turn on my blinker and slowly pull into the driveway on my right. I park in front of a beige house, a typical cookie cutter home in a quiet neighborhood, with the exception of the busy street out front.

My parent’s cars indicate that they are home and I don’t stop to think, I just get out of the car and walk to the brown front door. Awkwardness makes me hesitate when I realize I don’t know if I should walk in or ring the doorbell. I settle on the bell because I wouldn’t want to scare them. One long, manicured finger hovers over the round little button and I stare intently at the action as though it is the most important thing I’ll ever do.

Procrastination is an art, and despite my work ethic and dedication to my job, I’m quite talented in putting off my personal tasks. Suck it up, Larkin. Stop being such a baby. You eat sharks for lunch in the courtroom and you’re afraid of a conversation with Mom and Dad? Okay. I’ve got this. Okay. I take a deep breath and push. The sound pings inside and I hear shuffling footsteps.

The door swings open and my mom stands there, her blonde curls bouncing around her chin, the same ocean blue eyes. Basically a reflection of what I’ll look like in twenty years. Except her eyes and mouth are bracketed with laugh lines, and I don’t see those creasing my face in the future. Her face lights up when she sees me, and she immediately throws her arms around me.

I close my eyes and soak in the warmth, the smells of my childhood, chocolate and spice. I instantly know that I need this now. If I gained anything from my experience with Chase, it’s that I miss my mom and dad. My mother leans back, a small frown on her face, and uses her thumbs to wipe underneath my eyes. I didn’t know I’d started crying, and when matching tears start rolling down my mom’s cheeks, guilt overcomes me.

“Welcome home, baby girl.” The words wash over me and I take a fearful step toward the door. I left a few days after the accident, and haven’t been back since. I was so busy running from my own grief that I forgot about the mourning mother and grandmother I let behind. Instead, I gave her one more person to grieve over.

“I’m so sorry, Mom.”

She hugs me tight again, then puts an arm around my shoulder and guides me inside.

“It’s all in the past, sweetheart. Let’s focus on now, and the future. I’m just glad you’re home.” The house smells like fresh bread and chocolate chip cookies. I always read that in books and think, how could everyone’s parent’s houses smell like that. Mine didn’t always either, but Mom must have been baking recently, because as I walk in, it smells delicious, and for the first time in a week, I feel the slightest bit of hunger.

When we reach the kitchen, my dad looks up in surprise, his face lighting up like a Christmas tree. He pushes the chair back and stalks over to me, pulling me into an enormous bear hug. “Hey, love bug. I’m so happy to see you.” Mom sniffs, and walks to the counter where all the yummy smells were emanating from.

Dad and I sit at the table and an awkward silence descends.

“You look a little thin, Victoria. I better feed you,” Mom chirps. Then she goes about busying herself, putting a plate of treats together.

“Love bug,” Dad starts hesitantly, “I’m so damn glad you’re here, but you look like there might be a big reason for your visit. What’s up?” Right to the point, that’s my dad.

I suck in a breath through my nose and then let it out of my mouth in a puff. Mom sits across the table from me, pushing the plate my way, then watching me expectantly. “Um, have you guys ever thought about the people in the car accident? The guy driving the truck?”

My mom’s face clouds over a little and she slips her hand across the table to cover the one I have resting beside my plate. “Sure I have. Why do you ask?”

I clear my throat a little. “Um, I … met the man who was driving.” Both my parents’ eyebrows raise at that, and sympathy swims in their eyes.

“Is he okay?” my mom asks.

“What do mean, is he okay?” I snap. “Shouldn’t you be asking how I am after meeting the man who killed my husband and baby?”

My mom’s face softens, but she is frowning, nonetheless. “Honey, you left so quickly, you weren’t here for the aftermath of that accident. You shouldn’t blame that poor man. He was dealt his own set of troubles.”

“I’m glad he felt guilty. That’s nothing compared to my grief,” I sneer.

My dad looks at me reproachfully. “Victoria, I’m disappointed in you.”

That shuts me up real quick, and I shrink back in my chair. All of my life, my dad has been my hero and disappointing him…it’s worse than losing a vital case.

“That accident wasn’t any one person’s fault, but that man paid for it. He flipped his truck, landed upside down on one of the other cars. The other car had debris flying everywhere and he was hit in the head with multiple pieces of metal.” I suck in a breath, the image of Chase locked in a twisted hunk of steel makes me ache.

“He was in a coma for a while,” Mom says. “Then he was forced to stay in the hospital until he was cleared of brain trauma.”

“You knew him? Who he was?” I whisper incredulously.

Dad shakes his head. “No, not personally. We inquired through a friend of a friend. I was worried that we’d lost another life that day as well.”

“Another?” I frown, my brows furrowing deep over my eyes.

“Yes, love bug. Another. He may not have been our family, but he was as innocent as everyone else in that accident. A life just as important as yours or Sarah’s or Ben’s.” My dad shakes his head, looking down at the table, “I wanted to reach out to him, to make sure that he wasn’t living with guilt, or worrying that we blamed him, just see if he was all right. But we didn’t want to force it on him. So, we left it alone.”

I’m so confused by what they are saying. I feel like the room is spinning. I debate whether or not to tell them, going back and forth on the yo-yo. I want to know how they would react, to feel justified in my anger and resentment. “It was Chase,” I blurt out.

Twin looks of confusion grace their faces. “Chase who?” Mom asks.

“Monroe, Mom,” I answer curtly. “Chase Monroe, the guy you met at the wedding.”

Mom’s mouth drops open and Dad’s is thoughtful. Thoughtful? What is there to think about? I’ve been sleeping with the man who took away Ben and Sarah.

“Did he know?” Dad asks.

“No,” I admit, “he didn’t know it was me until last week. He took me to the cemetery.”

Mom’s hand covers her mouth. “Oh honey, I can’t imagine how hard that was. How devastating for you both.”

Once again, I’m lost. Do they not understand what’s happening? “Well, it hardly matters now. We’re over,” I mumble, my heart still hurting at the thought.

“Why?” Mom covers my hand with hers again. “It’s clear that you love him. I think you could heal each other’s grief.”

I pull my hand away and stand. “I have to go.”

My mom looks at my dad, her eyes darting back and forth between us, alarm written all over her face.

“Will you be back?” Dad asks gruffly.

His question softens my heart a little and I nod. “How about dinner next week?”

They both return to the glowing countenance that I’d seen when I arrived. Then I’m walked to the door by my mom, who hugs me tight.

“I missed you so much, baby girl,” she whispers. “Think about what I said, okay? No one is at fault for what happened, only the two of you for blaming yourselves.”

I don’t reply, but I return her hug and wave as I set off for my car.

There is so much swirling around in my mind, I think I’m even more overwhelmed than I was when I stopped at my parent’s house. One thing is clear, I’m fucking exhausted. I make the thirty minute drive back to the city and when I’m finally in my apartment, I fall into the bed in the guestroom and practically pass out from the emotional stress and lack of sleep this week.

I hear the phone in the front room buzzing, dragging me from my sleep. It’s the phone to the front desk. I sigh and glance at the clock, its eight o’clock at night. I’m not expecting a delivery. My forehead puckers as I stumble to the phone, praying it’s not Chase downstairs, asking to be let up. Then I remember he’s on the list, so it isn’t him, and I sigh with a modicum of relief.

“Yes?” I croak, my voice raspy with sleep.

“You have some visitors, Ms. Larkin.”

“Umm, who is it?” I ask warily.

“A…ahem, a group of people. I’ve been requested to tell you they are with Belinda?” His statement ends like a question, asking for permission to send them up.

I’m immediately worried that something has happened to Chase. I tell him to send them up and then pace in front of my door, waiting for a knock. When it comes, I swing the door open so fast, it hits the wall. “Is everything okay? Is everybody okay?” My words mush together in my panicked state. I wave them in still speaking at warp speed. “Did something happen to—Did something happen to anyone?”

Belinda puts her hand on my shoulder. “No one’s dead or in the hospital or anything. You can breathe, calm down.” I take her advice and follow her to the couches where everyone has seated themselves.

“No one’s hurt?” I clarify.

“I didn’t say that,” Belinda begins. She holds up her hand when I go to speak. “I know it’s not really any of my business, but this group, we are family. Including you and Chase. And when one is hurting, we all do.”

Nate speaks up, “He’s devastated, Tori. I’ve never seen him like this.”

I shake my head, backing away, as much in denial, as to ward off their speaking any further on this subject. “You don’t understand—” But, Belinda presses on, taking my hand and keeping me from running.

“Chase told us, honey. We understand what you’re both dealing with, to a certain extent anyway. Tori, look at me.” Her voice is firm, and she steps in front of me so I have no choice but to obey. “You have been on the cusp of acceptance for some time now, and Chase doesn’t like anyone to know, but he hasn’t reached that stage yet, either. But together? Together you were about to fall into the peace of acceptance.”

I don’t have a retort. I know she’s right. We were so close, making that final leap together. Now where am I? Lost, that’s where.

Bill takes hold of Glenda’s hand and meets my gaze. “You’ve learned that you won’t forget them. You believe that they want you to be happy, right?”

I nod slowly. Yes, I’d started to believe that he was the key to my future, the one meant to bring me back to life. But, wasn’t he the one who took it all away?

“Did you ever think,” Bill continues, “that they sent him to you? Because you were the only ones who could truly heal each other? The only ones who could understand each other’s pain?”

My parent’s words start echoing in my head, heal each other’s grief. There is no one at fault, only two who blame themselves.

“Tori, I didn’t know your husband,” Belinda says, “or daughter, but knowing you, I imagine they were compassionate, loving souls. Am I right?”

Tears cascade from my eyes, and I sniffle and nod.

“Perhaps they can free Chase from his guilt through you. And in doing so, free you from your burdens as well.”

Belinda places her hand over her heart, pressing lightly. “Our babies are dancing with the angels, Tori. By being happy, we provide them with the music.”

She dances with angels.

She dances with angels.

Chase’s tattoo. He punishes himself with that tattoo as a reminder that she is gone. But, that’s not what it means. She dances with angels. It should be a reminder to create the symphony that she dances to, one that brings a smile and laughter to her sweet face. A score that tells her we are happy too.

Four faces look at me hopefully, watching to know if they’ve gotten through to me. Chase is the only person on this earth who can truly help me let go and I think I’m his salvation as well. I have to see him. My heart aches a little less at the thought.

“Thanks,” I whisper with a wobbly smile. No more words need to be said. They each give me a parting hug and I’ve finally learned how to return it again.

Once they are gone, I dash to the shower and throw on the first clean clothes I come across. I run around looking for everything I need and beat a hasty path to my car. I’m not stupid. I don’t speed to get to him, but I do scream at the lights and traffic to get their asses moving.

I need to see my angel.