Thirty minutes past seven.
Ten minutes since the call with Heather.
I sat at the kitchen table staring at my phone in anticipation as I awaited Heather's follow up call. She told me not to worry, but how the fuck was I supposed to remain calm?
Suddenly, the screen lit up and the table shook with the vibration of the device. I quickly answered and pressed it to my ear.
"Hey," I choked out. "Did you find her? Is she alright?"
"Drew," she replied, the tears evident through her voice. And that one word was enough to sink my heart.
One might think that a simple word couldn't cause a bundle of emotions to course through a person, but the way in which she said my name crushed my heart. She said it sorrowfully, like she pitied me. She pitied me because something had happened to my fiancée. She was sobbing, but trying not to. She was trying not to sound sad and worsen the misfortune. She said it with such pain, like it physically hurt her to bring me this news, whatever it may be. And simply just the way in which she began the sentence with my name said so much. She didn't just tell me that Jade was okay. No, she said my name first as if to prepare me for the punch. As if to directly tell me, "It's not good, but be strong."
And all of this put together was too much for me to handle. As she continued to explain the situation, I felt as though my breath had been sucked from my throat. I felt like my heart stopped working, and I just stayed there slumped in my seat at the kitchen table while she broke the news to me.
"Jade was in a car crash about a mile from my house. We're at the hospital right now, and she's getting help but-"
"I'm coming," I managed to say in a raspy, broken voice. "I'll be there as soon as I can."
