Lucas stood by the window of his room, the night pressing against the glass like a ghost trying to get in. His reflection stared back at him, older now, wearier, but still wearing the same lie.
He hadn't forgotten anything.
He remembered the crash. The way the tires had screamed. The smell of burnt rubber. The panic in her voice.
"Lucas, I'm almost due!"
She had said it, trembling, her fingers digging into her coat.
He had been too stunned to process it then, too caught up in what he needed to do next. There was something he had to handle first, something that couldn't wait. He told her they couldn't get married yet, not until he settled it.
That's when she snapped.
"You think I did all this just to be left behind?!" she'd screamed. "I used the money, your money, to get insurance. I don't care. At least someone will take care of my family if you won't."
He remembered the way her voice cracked. He remembered grabbing the wheel too tight.
And then everything broke.
