10
I Never Expected Luke Harrison to Be There, Let Alone Crash His Car to Save Me
When I got out of my car, my hands were shaking so badly I couldn’t even hold my phone properly. I tried dialing 911 over and over but kept pressing the wrong numbers.
The wailing of sirens broke through the fog in my mind, but I still couldn’t pull myself together. My legs gave out, and I collapsed onto the pavement, unable to stand.
The crash was devastating. The police arrived quickly and cordoned off the area.
Aside from the two totaled cars, I seemed to have escaped with only minor injuries–a bruise from something that had struck me during the
collision.
The firefighters arrived soon after, extinguishing the flames and working to extricate two bloodied bodies from the wreckage.
As someone caught in the chaos, I was also ushered into an ambulance.
The blaring of sirens, the shouts of officers, the flash of cameras–it was an overwhelming cacophony, and my mind struggled to process anything.
I couldn’t identify which of the injured was Luke, but I remembered his license plate.
In that moment, I thought of nothing else. I just wanted him to survive.
Maybe it was divine intervention–some long–forgotten mercy from a corner of the universe–or maybe it was just fate.
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Compared to the other driver, who died on the spot, Luke “only” suffered severe injuries. It was a miracle he survived at all.
By the time his family arrived at the hospital, I was sitting on a bench outside the operating room, still wearing the clothes from the accident.
Of all those involved, I was the only one who could still walk. I was also the only eyewitness.
After calming me down, the police took my statement, their questions formal and routine.
When Luke’s mother came in, holding his son in her arms, I sat there with my head buried in my hands.
The events of the past few hours had been too much, even for me.
I replayed everything in my mind, trying to pinpoint the moment when Luke and I had become enemies.
No matter how far I went back, it always came down to our daughter.
Maybe it was someone connected to the traffickers–a lingering remnant of their group–or maybe it was something else entirely.
But one thing was clear: Luke had tried to save me.
All my scattered thoughts eventually boiled down to that single truth.
Luke’s Sacrifice
I couldn’t tell what Luke felt about me after all these years, or why he had risked everything in that critical moment.
But I couldn’t ignore the fact that he had saved my life.
The crash left Luke paralyzed from the waist down. It was a terrible outcome, but compared to death, it was a blessing.
When Luke finally woke up, I was sitting nearby, watching his mother talk softly to his son.
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After seeing them so often in the past few days, I found that I no longer felt the resistance I once did. I could accept the boy’s presence now.
Luke seemed like he wanted to say something, but with his body wrapped in bandages, he couldn’t find the stren
to speak.
Even without words, though, there was an unspoken understanding between us.
The Truth Comes Out
The police later told me that the driver who had chased me was a relative of one of the traffickers, driven by revenge.
Neither Luke nor I had been random targets; they wanted to hurt us specifically.
The officers tried to reassure me, telling me not to feel guilty, that it wasn’t my fault.
But guilt and love are two very different things.
Maybe Luke still had lingering feelings for me, but I had long since stopped loving him.
I had told myself this countless times on sleepless nights, waking from nightmares that wouldn’t let me forget.
He had saved my life, and I wasn’t ungrateful. I would always be thankful for that.
But gratitude wasn’t enough to undo the years of pain.
There was no going back to the life we once shared.
We had become like two distant stars, separated by an unbridgeable expanse,
And unlike the star–crossed lovers of myths, we weren’t destined to reunite.
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And unlike the star–crossed lovers of myths, we weren’t destined to reunite.
I couldn’t even define what I felt for him now. Was it a faint trace of love? A lingering affection? Or was it simply resentment?
The past thirteen years had been real, every moment etched into my memory.
But the only truth left was that he and I were heading down separate paths.
A New Chapter
After Luke regained consciousness, I began to distance myself.
I reduced my visits, knowing that staying in his life would only complicate things.
One day, seemingly on a whim, I decided I wanted to leave.
I wanted to see the world beyond the confines of my grief, to meet new people and rediscover what it meant to live.
I knew I might never fully heal from the wounds of the past, but I wanted to try.
For my daughter, I wanted to live a life that would honor her memory.
Perhaps, somewhere in the future, I might find her again–in another life, another time.
And if that day ever comes, I hope I’ll have the courage to walk up to her, smile, and say the words I couldn’t before:
“I’m sorry.”
