sonder

Week 6

"'TIL DEATH DO US PART"

From "20 Six-Word Stories that are Absolutely Heartbreaking," #13 and #19

"'Just Married!' read the shattered windshield."

"What's your return policy on rings?"

"Just Married!" read the shattered windshield.

I stared at the photo. A crash. A big, terrible car crash.

It left me with short-term amnesia, but when the memories came back, they hit me like a train, all at once. He was there in all of them; tall, a beautiful smile, an obsession with books.

He died in that crash.

It was our wedding day. I wore a big, princess-style dress with lots of ruffles and pretty beading all on the top. He wore a tux and his favorite watch. By the end of the ceremony, we both wore rings on our fingers.

Tragedy struck on the way to the reception. Something was wrong with our driver; we - I - later learned that he was high out of his mind. Drove straight through a red light and got hit by a semi. Our driver survived. The driver of the semi did not.

My groom was sitting on the right side in the back seat; the truck came from the right side of the car. The impact - it was just too much. He broke his neck almost instantly. My whole body got thrown against the left side door, and I ended up with a few broken ribs, fractures in both legs, a broken arm, and a bad concussion.

I wish the amnesia never went away. I don't want to remember.

It was a gloomy, sticky August day. The threat of rain loomed over everyone's head. That photo sat like a 300 pound weight in my hands. For some reason, I had the strongest urge to return my ring. I didn't want it anymore. It was too much.

The little platinum piece of jewelry sat on my side table. I reached over, sinking into my bed as I stared at it in my hand. It had a nice little diamond on it; not huge, but fairly respectable in size. It must've cost quite a lot of money. Perhaps I could get that money back.

Going through the movements was easy. Picked up the ring, slipped it in my pocket. Rushed down stairs, ignored the slight pain in my leg. Grabbed my keys. Went to the garage. Hopped in my car, drove away.

It was actually saying the words that was hard.

The jeweler's smelled like rich people and fancy carpet cleaner. I wonder how he felt when he bought me the ring; excited, probably. Maybe a bit nervous. This small connection tugs at my heart, and it makes me want to get this over with.

An old man with white hair smiled at me, the creases in his face growing deeper as he did so. I mustered a small, fake grin.

"Can I help you?" he asked, making his way behind the glass case of jewelry that no doubt costed more than my hospital bills.

"Yes, um... This may be a weird question, but..." I trailed off, my throat getting tight and vision blurry with unshed tears.

"Ma'am?"

"What's your return policy on rings?" I choked out, remaining as calm as possible. I refused to cry in front of a stranger. The man's expression instantly darkened, and he subconsciously covered his own wedding ring with his free hand.

"Well, um..." he said uncomfortably, but with a certain tone that implied he'd been through this before. I would presume it was under very different circumstances. It's not every day that your husband dies as soon as you marry him. The bell above the entrance jingled.

"It's just that I'm under very unfortunate and very unique circumstances and I think I really just need a refund for closure or--"

"...Hallie?" a voice said from behind me, successfully interrupting the stream of jumbled-up words that tumbled out of my mouth.

I spun around at the mention of my name, looking for the voice's owner. I regretted it at soon as I saw.

There stood the driver, a balding, middle-aged white guy, standing at the entrance with a wad of cash in hand. His eyes were wide like a child caught with a hand in the cookie jar. He seemed fine; his injuries were much less severe than those of his passengers. I wondered for a second what he was doing in there, because his trial was quite soon. Prison time - that was his consequence. Served him right.

I turned back around, avoided the gaze of the jeweler as I spoke, loud enough for both men to hear.

"I got married 7 months ago. My husband - Danny - he bought my ring from here. I loved him so, so much. I was so excited to be married to him. He was such a sweet man. Volunteered, raised money for charity, all that. He was going to be a lawyer and stand up for victims of horrible crimes. Never before in my life had I met someone so amazing. Sure, he had his faults, but I loved him so, so so much. Unfortunately, on the way to our reception, our driver - ahem, the man behind me - was extremely high. Too bad for us that he got us into a car crash and killed Danny. Now I'm stuck here with this stupid ring. It's a bitter reminder of what could have been, you know. Do you know what it's like for the love of your life to be torn away from you in such a manner? No, I couldn't imagine you would understand. Not the way I do."

I slammed the ring down in front of the jeweler and stormed out of the store, tears streaming down my face.

Got in my car. Slammed the door shut. Sped out of the parking lot, down the highway.

Contemplated. Sped up to as fast as I possibly could.

Turned the steering wheel.

Then, nothing.

~~~

a/n

sad, not a good story, short af... eh, sue me. i'm sick.

also, this should go without saying because like, all of  sonder is like this, but this is unedited. sorry for any boo-boos.