I needed this. Needed something between Troy and me that felt normal and chosen and ours.
I started the engine and pulled back into traffic.
The unease started about three blocks later.
Nothing I could point to specifically. Just a feeling.
I checked my mirrors. Scanned the street. Looked for anything out of place.
Nothing obvious jumped out at me. Just the normal Chicago traffic with cars and pedestrians and the usual chaos of late afternoon.
But the feeling wouldn't go away.
I turned back toward home. Five minutes out now. Close enough that I could see the familiar landmarks. The park where Troy used to play as a kid. The corner store where I bought coffee most mornings.
The stoplight ahead turned yellow. I pressed the brake.
Nothing happened.
I pressed harder. The pedal went to the floor with no resistance and no slowing.
The light turned red.
I pumped the brakes. Once, twice, three times. Still nothing.
Traffic was crossing the intersection ahead of me. Cars and pedestrians and bicycles all moving through the space I was about to barrel into.
My heart slammed against my ribs. The adrenaline flooded my system, turning everything sharp and clear.
I yanked the wheel and swerved right. Narrowly missed a sedan. The driver laid on their horn. I kept going.
The parking brake. I reached for it and pulled hard. Felt the back end of the truck start to drag, but it wasn't enough. I was still going too fast, still heading straight for the intersection.
I swerved again. Left this time. Jumped the curb and felt the truck bounce hard over the concrete.
There were trees ahead. A whole line of them planted along the sidewalk.
I aimed for the biggest one. Better to hit something stationary than to plow into traffic and kill someone.
The impact was instant and total.
Metal crunched. Glass shattered. My seatbelt locked across my chest hard enough to knock the air from my lungs. My head snapped forward then back. The pain exploded across my ribs where the bruises were worst.
Then everything stopped.
I sat there gasping with my hands still gripping the wheel hard enough to make my knuckles white. My heart was hammering so hard I could feel it in my throat.
The airbag hadn't deployed, which was a small mercy. But the front end of my truck was wrapped around the tree trunk that had punched through the hood like it was made of paper.
Steam rose from the engine. The smell of coolant and oil filled the cab.
I tried to move. Everything hurt. My ribs were screaming. My head felt like someone had taken a hammer to it. My hands were shaking so badly I could barely unbuckle my seatbelt.
But I was alive.
I'd crashed into a tree doing maybe thirty miles an hour and I was fucking alive.
People were running toward me. I could hear the voices shouting, someone asking if I was okay, and someone else on the phone calling 911.
