Fleeting Moments

“I’m not crazy!” I snap. “I remember everything very clearly. You might not believe it, but he’s real. He is. He came to see me in the hospital. He was there; I saw him with my own eyes.”


Gerard’s face drops. “Lucy, he didn’t. The nurse confirmed that.”

“He did. Maybe she didn’t see him, but he was there!”

“Lucy, I think you need help,” Gerard says, his eyes worried for me, his face tight.

“I don’t need help!” I yell, so damned frustrated. “I just need you to believe in me.” I turn and charge towards the front door.

“Lucy!” my dad calls. “Stop.”

I grab the keys and shove the door open, running to my car. I throw myself in and lock the doors. All three of them race out of the house, waving their arms and yelling at me to stop but I don’t. I throw my car into reverse and back out, disappearing down the road. As soon as I’m out of sight, I start to cry. Big, ugly tears that turn into loud, body-wracking sobs.

I find a quiet street and pull over, letting it flood out.

I’m not crazy.

I’m not.





CHAPTER 6


I sit on the side of the road for what seems like hours. My phone rings and rings, and I eventually turn it off. Once my tears have dried up, I stare out at the passing cars and old homes, wondering where the hell to go from here. I had a perfect life, an amazing husband, and a baby growing inside of me, and now it’s all gone and I don’t know how to get it back.

The scary thing is, I don’t even know if I want to.

I’m pulling out onto the street before I even think about it, driving the streets until I end up at a police station. I stare at the front doors and wonder what the hell I’m hoping to get out of this. They’re highly unlikely to give me anything, so I should just turn away, but I can’t. I don’t think I’m going to be able to move on until I can see Heath and find out the truth.

Only then will I have a chance of making things better.

I get out of the car, locking it and stuffing the keys into my pocket as I approach the front doors. I stop when I reach them and glance at my reflection. My face is puffy and red. I look awful. It doesn’t matter.

I push the doors open and step inside. There are no people to be seen, not even a woman at the reception desk. I shuffle forward, peering down the halls to my left. No one.

I ring the bell on the desk. A minute later, a pretty blond woman comes out, her hair flowing around her shoulders, her blue eyes shining, a smile on her face. “Hi there,” she says, her eyes dropping to my no doubt red nose. “Are you okay?”

“I am,” I say, my voice strong, even though I know I look like a weak, pathetic mess. “I’m looking for Heath.”

Her face twitches just slightly. Anyone who wasn’t looking for it would have missed it. “I’m sorry; we don’t have anyone here with that name.”

She’s lying. Her eyes darted to the left for just a second. “That’s not true. I know he works here—he told me.”

She shifts a little to the right and rubs a hand over her blouse. “I’m sorry, ma’am, we don’t have a Heath here. Perhaps you have the wrong station?”

“Stop lying to me,” I snap, crossing my arms. “Why are you all protecting him?”

She glances down the hallway. “Let me get my station manager.”

She walks off and a moment later returns with an older man. He’s lean and tall with stark green eyes that stand out against his olive skin.

“Hi there. How may I help you?”

I glance at his name badge. “Michael, is it?”

He nods.

“I’m Lucy. I was at the baseball stadium when it was held up recently. There was a man there. He helped me—his name was Heath. He worked here. I’m looking for him.”

His face doesn’t change. He’s better at lying than his receptionist. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anyone here by that name.”

“God dammit,” I scream. “Why are you all lying?”

“Ma’am, perhaps we can sit down and calm—”

“You know what?” I growl. “I’m going to find him another way.”

I turn and rush out of the building but not before I catch sight of the officers who were there the night it happened, staring at me from inside an office. They know. They all know, so why the hell won’t anyone help me? Where the hell do I go from here?

***





TEN DAYS LATER


It’s been another draining week and a half since I went into that police station in a poor attempt at finding information about Heath. By the time I got home, Gerard had already been informed that I’d been there because they had called him out of concern for me. Once again, we got into another blasted fight about a man that doesn’t exist. Since then, we barely speak. Each day that passes we grow further and further apart.

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