Because of the Accident (Book 1)

Chapter 4

I opened my eyes slowly, the unfamiliar surroundings pulling me out of the haze of sleep. My head throbbed, each pulse sending waves of discomfort through my skull, and for a moment, I couldn't place where I was. I pushed myself up, my muscles stiff and uncooperative, and stretched my arms out, trying to ease the tension. I winced, rubbing at my temples as I looked around the dimly lit room. Nothing was familiar—the couch I'd crashed on, the sparse furniture, the quiet hum of a fridge in the background.

'What the hell am I doing here?' I asked myself, confusion quickly giving way to fragments of memory. Autumn. The baby. Lia. Oh, right—I was staying with a total stranger.

I let out a bitter laugh under my breath. Someone tell me why I agreed to this? Never, in a million years, would the old me have agreed to something so reckless, so... impulsive. But then again, I wasn't the man I used to be. Everything had changed. I had changed.

I glanced at the clock on the wall, its ticking the only sound in the quiet apartment. It was late morning, and I was surprised that I'd slept as long as I had. I'd been running on empty for days, but the exhaustion I felt wasn't just physical—it went much deeper than that. A heavy, emotional exhaustion that made every breath feel like an effort.

With a groan, I pushed off the couch and started to move, my legs still feeling weak. I headed toward the back of the apartment, stopping outside the partially open door that led to Lia's room. I peeked in, curiosity getting the better of me. She was still asleep, curled up tightly in a ball, the soft rise and fall of her chest the only movement. Her brown curly hair fro was splayed across the pillow, and she had a faint smile on her lips, as if she were dreaming of something peaceful. Something good.

For a moment, I watched her, noting how calm she seemed. She had an ease about her that was magnetic, like she was the kind of person who just knew how to handle things. It was hard to believe I'd met her just hours before. She looked so peaceful, so... beautiful.

I shook my head, pulling my thoughts away from that dangerous path. Was it my mind admiring her? Or something else? Something baser, more primal. I couldn't quite tell, and that made me uneasy. I couldn't let myself get distracted. Not now. There were more important things to focus on—things like Autumn. Like the baby that I would see soon, the child I wasn't prepared for.

My thoughts started to linger back to Autumn, making my chest tighten, the grief rushing in like a tidal wave. I missed her so much it hurt, like a physical ache deep in my bones. What was I going to do without her? How was I supposed to navigate this life, this fatherhood, without her by my side?

I turned away from Lia's door and walked down the hall, trying to clear my head. The bathroom door was slightly ajar, and I stepped inside, catching sight of myself in the mirror. I barely recognized the man staring back at me. My face was drawn, my eyes red and puffy from too many sleepless nights and too many tears shed in private. I sighed, rubbing a hand over my stubbled jaw. Maybe a shower would help clear the fog in my head.

As I turned toward the shower, something caught my eye—a small prescription bottle sitting on the sink's edge. I picked it up, reading the label. Antidepressants.

I furrowed my brow. Why would she need these? She didn't strike me as someone who was struggling—at least, not in the way I was. But then again, you never really know what someone is going through. Everyone had their demons. Everyone had their pain. Maybe Lia's wasn't as obvious as mine, but it was there, hidden beneath the surface.

I set the bottle down carefully, making sure it was in the same position as before, not wanting her to know I'd touched it. I stripped off my clothes and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water pound against my skin. For a few brief moments, I felt like I could almost relax, like maybe the water could wash away the weight I'd been carrying. But it didn't. The memories of Autumn lingered, sharp and unrelenting.