The Man Beside Me

The Man Beside Me — Chapter One

A tear or two slipped from her eyes. She slammed her fist against the steering wheel.

“Damn it,” she whispered, as though she didn't have the strength to say the words any louder.

She had never wanted things to turn out this way.

She leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes. For a few seconds, she simply sat there, doing nothing. The hum of the engine, the distant sounds of the city, and her uneven breathing blended together.

She tried to push what had just happened out of her mind.

It didn't work.

She saw it all over again.

The words that had been spoken. The look on his face. The look on hers.

If only she had kept quiet.

If only she had been a little more patient.

If only people could take back the words that left their mouths before they were ever spoken.

She opened her eyes and stared into the darkness beyond the windshield. This time, the tears slipped silently down her cheeks.

She wiped her face with the back of her hand.

“I didn't mean to do it,” she whispered.

But some words, once spoken, could not be undone by regret.

And that was the worst part.

No matter how sorry she was, she couldn't go back to who she had been just a few minutes ago.

“You know you deserved it, don't you?”

The voice beside her made her flinch.

She turned toward it, helplessly.

He was there.

His eyes were impossibly blue. The calm expression on his face stood in almost cruel contrast to the woman falling apart beside him. His arms were folded across his chest as he watched her.

“I didn't deserve it,” she whispered.

As if she didn't want anyone to hear her.

But she needed to say it.

She needed to hear someone tell her she was right.

“You clearly don't believe that.”

His voice was calm.

Too calm.

She looked away.

“You shouldn't be here.”

It was as if she hadn't heard a word he'd said.

“Why are you here, for God's sake?”

Her voice suddenly rose with anger. She hadn't meant to shout. But she couldn't stop herself. She could no longer control the tears in her eyes, the scream growing inside her chest, or the tremor in her voice.

“Get out of the car.”

The words came out like an order.

A police officer's order.

But ordering him to leave wouldn't change anything.

“You know I can't.”

His voice remained calm.

“I’m not going anywhere while you're like this.”

She closed her eyes.

For just a moment, she let herself believe that he was really there.

She raised her hand.

She wanted to reach for him. To wipe away the tears. To feel something—anything.

But her fingers touched nothing.

She held her hand in the air for a moment.

Then slowly lowered it.

He was still sitting beside her.

But she couldn't touch him.

He had been dead for only a few hours.