Page 144 of This Woman Forever

Slow down, bro.

“It should have been me, Jake.” My voice cracks, the road becoming blurry. “If it had been me, it would have only been me.” But it wasn’t only me. It was Jake, and that was a catalyst to many more lives being ruined.

Slow down.

Because of me.

Slow down, Jesse!

Jake, Rosie, Rebecca, Carmichael. Nearly Sarah too. All because of me.

Slow the fuck down, now!

I jerk, my fingers pulling at the brakes, and I skid to a stop by the side of the road, diving off my bike, leaving it to fall to the tarmac with a crash. I fumble with the strap under my chin, feeling suffocated, and yank my helmet off, gasping for air, struggling to breathe as I stagger to the verge. I collapse to the grass and fall to my back, looking up to the sky, my chest pumping hard.

Heaven.

Will I ever earn my way into that sacred place?

Will I ever see my loves again?

I don’t want to see your ugly fucking face for a long fucking time, Jesse. Do you hear me?

“Watch your mouth,” I murmur.

Fuck off. You have a job to do there. We’re fine.

“We?”

Uncle Jake’s looking after me, Daddy.

I cough over a sob, rolling onto my side, wanting to curl into a ball of shame and stem the pain. “That’s good,” I whisper. “Tell him thank you. Tell him I love him. And you, baby girl. I love you too.”

Silence.

I wait, listen, holding my breath.

No voices.

I roll onto my back again, looking up at the clouds. “Did you hear me, Rosie?” I roughly wipe my eyes, sniff back my tears, listening, waiting.

“Shit, mate, are you all right?”

I lift my head and come face to face with a young lad in a Manchester United kit. I laugh under my breath, seeing Jake and me in the garden, him in red, me in blue. Fucking hell, our looks were the only similar thing about us.

Come on, you Reds.

I blink, seeing him dribbling the ball toward me, goading me as I widened my stance, holding my hands up, getting ready to save his shot. But the fucker nutmegs me.

Goal!

“Jesus Christ,” I gasp, pushing myself to my feet. “I’m fine.” I notice his little boy racer car on the roadside behind my bike, his hazard lights on.

“I thought you’d come off, mate,” he says, flanking me to my bike, watching me stand it up. “That is one awesome machine.”

I laugh under my breath, getting back on my awesome machine. “What’s your name?”

“Bran.”