Stolen Course(4)

But that’s before I was robbed.

Manda was stolen from me. Stolen from herself. Stolen from a world that is clueless as to what they are missing but will be nonetheless be worse off without her. She lost her life, and it’s all Sarah Erickson’s fault.

Oh, Sarah didn’t intentionally kill the love of my life. What she did was far worse. She was drinking and decided to get behind the wheel, essentially playing Russian roulette with every man, woman, and child on the road that night. It was just my luck though. Sarah didn’t kill herself that night. No, Manda was the one who paid the price for Sarah’s stupidity. And I was the one who had my life ripped out from under my feet. Not fucking Sarah. Me. Yet here I am, in a poorly lit hospital waiting room, trying to find out what the hell is going to happen to that bitch.

This isn’t the first time I’ve ever been here for Sarah, but it is the first time I actually feel okay with it. Sarah has tried to kill herself four times since the accident. Last night was her most recent attempt. Before today, it was always her husband—and my best friend—Brett who came to pick up her broken pieces, but today, I sit in this waiting room alone. No one else is here for her. She has long since forced everyone who loved her away.

Last night, with a gun in her hand, she ran off the only person who would never give up on her—Brett. It was a long time coming. He should have walked away from her years ago. But Brett has a bleeding heart. According to him, Sarah suffered some bullshit traumatic brain injury as a result of the accident. While that really sucks, I have trouble feeling bad for her when my entire life is buried six feet under. Brett was insistent that something was wrong with her. Her personality changed, and she didn’t want anything to do with him anymore. I just call it guilt for killing her best friend, by making the ridiculous decision to drive drunk.

Unfortunately for me, Sarah was never prosecuted for her drunken activities for a couple of different reasons. The first is that she wasn’t drunk when her blood alcohol level was taken. No one seems to care that her blood wasn’t taken until hours after the accident. Sarah was a cop’s wife. No one in that entire hospital was excited about pointing the finger at her. Oh, and there is always the fucking debate about who was driving the car that night. That conversation always makes me heated. Technically no one can prove who was driving that night. Witnesses on the scene said that it was a redhead, like Manda, driving the car. I’ve always wondered how the hell they saw that in the dark though. Other witnesses at the restaurant said that it was a tall blonde who pulled out of the parking lot. I tend to trust those people a lot more.

Tonight, as Brett tried to talk Sarah out of killing herself, he uttered the only words that could ever make me help her. “What would Manda say about this?”

It wasn’t a new idea. I’ve thought about it a million times. But after spending the day at her grave with Jesse at my side, those words finally hit home. Manda would kill me if I let anything happen to Sarah. She would never forgive me if I didn’t do everything in my power to help her get better. She wouldn’t even be mad at Sarah for killing her. Manda was amazing like that. She loved Sarah. So when Brett said those words, I broke every promise I’d made to myself after the accident and saved Sarah from herself. I walked through the door, dropped to my knees in front of her, and told her the truth.

“Manda told me I need to help you. I still hate you, but she never would. I’m going to help you, Sarah. Not for you, but for her.” Then I picked her up and carried her out.

Thankfully she didn’t fight me. She wrapped her arms around my neck and repeated over and over again how sorry she was. I didn’t tell her that it was okay. I will never tell her that. I did, however, tell her how much Manda loved her and how she wouldn’t have blamed her for any of this. Manda always was a better person than I am.

So here I am, wrapped in the tiny arms of my very own guardian angel, Jesse Addison. Brett stands behind her, angry and frustrated. It’s obvious she made him come here today. I don’t blame him. Last night, Brett thought Sarah had a gun to Jesse’s head. He heard the gun shots, and I know they lodged directly in his heart. The fact that he’s here at all speaks wonders about how much he loves Jesse. And I know because a ghost dragged me here today.

“Hey, baby girl.” I give her a tight squeeze.

A few months ago, Brett would have blown up at me for touching Jesse, but he knows I’d never try to come between them now. Jesse is a little sister to me, and after everything Brett and I have been through, he’s more than a brother to me…whatever that may be. I’m happy for them yet still so jealous it hurts.