She squeezes her eyes shut as if it could keep out the guilt.
It's clear before her, the accident. And it's all her fault, too. She asked him to drive her to work. It would have been just as easy for her to take the bus like she normally did, but no, she had to go and ask for a ride.
Now they were dead.
Not her and him-- no. Him and their friend who'd come along. The ride to work was uneventful, really. A few jokes here, laughs there. Normal. It was after they had dropped her off that it had all happened.
That damn intersection.
It was a confusing intersection, to say the very least. Not safe, really. Five-way intersection, no lights, just stop signs. No one ever really seems to know who's turn it is. The intersection has always been an accident waiting to happen. Well, it happened.
He was turning, and someone else decided to go at the same time and smashed into the side of his car. Their friend died on impact. He didn't die until the ambulance got there.
If it hadn't been for her, they'd both be alive right now. Now she'd never get the chance to tell him how she really felt. Now their friend would never be the godparent of her child.
She inhaled deeply, trying to keep back tears she didn't want everyone on the bus to see.
There was a vibration in her pocket. Must be her phone. A text, maybe. Opening her eyes, she pulls out the phone and looks at the message.
It's him. Of course it's him. He must have been really busy to not text her back after so many hours. She checks her messages and sees that their friend just read the last text she sent to him. She want to laugh, cry tears of relief, but knows the people on the bus would think she's crazy. It was all in her head.
That's what she gets for having an over-active imagination, though.
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