not in a relationship." He finishes and simply shrugs as if he didn't just tell me something so heartbreakingly tragic.
"I'm so sorry." I'm not sure why I'm apologizing, but that's what people do when faced with a death.
"It's okay. You should know that the accident is a really sensitive subject for me and Caleb. Hence the fight last week at Nell's. His fiancé was killed in the car that night." I suck in a breath and throw my hands up to cover my mouth. Tears spring to my eyes. I can’t stop myself from reaching forward and wrapping my arms around Brett's waist. He doesn't immediately respond to my unexpected show of affection.
"Are you crying?" he asks uncomfortably. I don't care though. This man needs a hug.
"That's really sad. You both lost your wives in the same accident. It makes my heart hurt. I can't imagine how that must have felt. God, I am so sorry." He finally wraps his thick arms me. One hand grabbing the back of my head, pulling it to rest on his chest. As the tears run down my face, I feel him ever so slightly chuckle.
I crane my head all the way back to see his face filled with humor. "Are you laughing at me?"
"Well, when I imagined how this conversation would go, it sure didn't end with you crying over my broken heart. So yes, I am," he says, looking down but not releasing me. I rest my head back against his hard chest, sniffling and trying to stop my tears.
"We should call Caleb. I need to give him a hug too." I say, causing him to burst into loud laughter.
"I think it's in Caleb's best interest not to see you dressed like this while trying to hug him. So, how about you just give him his tomorrow." Not completely understanding but not ready to step out of his warm arms, I stay silent.
Brett
O F ALL the ways this conversation could have gone, I never once expected Jesse to cry over Sarah. Yet, here she stands, curled into my chest, trying to dry her eyes. I wasn't entirely sure I was going to tell her about the accident at all. But she kept trying to run away from me, and I couldn't stand the idea of her being so upset. This tiny woman brings out something in me that makes me need to protect her. It killed me that she might be hurting. The fact that I was the reason for her pain just magnified the guilt tenfold. This whole screwed up situation is my fault anyway.
There is no way she could have known about Sarah. I haven't worn a ring in years.
Three years earlier …
C OVERED IN my wife's blood, I pace the hospital’s hallways. I've become entirely too familiar with these halls over the last seven months. Between all of Sarah's doctor appointments and her two, now three, attempts to end her life, I know every inch of this hospital. I wish I felt lost here. I wish I didn't belong. But here I stand, staring at the same cheesy picture of a laughing couple captioned with a lame message about getting health screenings to extend your future. I've seen this picture a million times before, however, today it cuts me to the quick.
I could get every test this hospital has to offer, and it wouldn't extend my future with Sarah. No. That was stolen from me. As I try to imagine a future without her, my body physically responds to the panic I feel in my heart. I break into a sweat and I'm forced to prop one hand against the wall to keep my legs under me. I'm not ready to let her go. After today’s gruesome show, I'm not sure I have a choice anymore.
"Detective Sharp?" I hear the nurse say from beside me as I try to calm myself.
"Hey Debra." I look over at the middle aged woman I've met several times over the last few months.
"I brought you these scrubs. I figured you would want to get out of those clothes. I also put some soap and shampoo into the shower in room 228, so you can clean up a bit."
"Thanks, but I'm going to wait a few minutes. I need to get an update on Sarah first."
"She's going to be okay. I overheard the doctors talking about admitting her for a psych evaluation again, but for the