p4neminem
As the months pass, she, for the most part, holds it together.
Until there is a close call and she discovers about his broken arm over the phone. It's just a broken arm, he insists, but he knows that is not the reason why she is beside herself. It is the thought of what could've happened, were he a second slower, in the wrong place at the wrong time. At least he is in one piece, he thinks, trying to scrub away the image in his mind of a man he once knew, who was breathing just days ago. Someone's son, someone's father. Some nights he barely has enough time to sleep and he dreams of some epiphany, of a single glimpse of relief to make sense of what he's seen.