The Longest Five Years (Completed)

Luke

Present Day

I'm going crazy, trapped in this house. I need air, sunshine. I need to clear my head. I want to feel like myself again.

It's been a week since I got out of the hospital, so I'm still sore and need plenty of rest, but this sitting around stuff isn't for me. My ribs are taped tight, and all I want to do is sit out on a patio, people watch, and have some coffee.

Emmy's in school and Erin was sprung with a two-week business trip a few days ago. It's probably a good thing my bike was wrecked; as crazy as it sounds, I'd like nothing more than to hop on her and catch some fresh air.

I unbuckle my seatbelt and ease myself out slowly. I never thought doing such simple things could hurt so much. I really miss my motorcycle.

I'll be off work for 6-8 weeks, and I really hope I can stay busy to keep my mind off things. My ribs. The pain. The accident. Reagan.

I cringe as I close my door and make my way inside the cafe. It's an awesome little place that serves locally roasted coffee and supports budding artists. The inside is warm and cozy, with dark walls, dim lights and big windows. Being here feels good; it's the first thing I've tried to do on my own since the accident, even if I probably shouldn't. I've never been one to follow the rules.

I order my drink, but feel like an old man as I lean against the counter to support my weight. I'm thankful it's not too busy today.

"Look what the cat dragged in!" My buddy Jake shouts from across the room. I turn a little too fast and cringe, but don't give a shit how I look. I survived a motorcycle crash; I'm a badass. He cringes too, in apology, and heads over just as the barista call outs my name.

"Hey, man," I say reaching out to shake his hand. He looks like he was heading out. I met Jake three years ago at a neighborhood party.

"Aren't you supposed to be in bed, hanging out with a hot nurse or something?" He smiles, but then it fades. "I saw the news. Crash was bad. Glad you're up and moving around already."

"Thanks," I say, doing my best not to think of the accident. I know how bad it could've been. I'm lucky to be alive, and I can't even think of what it would've meant for Emmy had it turned out any other way. I sip of my coffee and shake the negativity out of my head.

We sit out at a table on the patio talk for for a few minutes. It's nice to laugh with my buddy again, even if I have to take it easy on the ribs. It's the kind of pain I'm okay with; it means I'm alive.

"Sorry to run.  Work meeting in twenty minutes. If there's anything you need, don't hesitate to call. It's really good to see you, man," he says again and I nod before he heads down the street toward his car. Alone again, I'm left with my thoughts, so I try to make them happy ones. I think of Emmy and her big, beautiful eyes. I think of the way it feels when she tells me she loves me and of the first time she said Daddy. I think of the Abbott's and how I'd be lost in this world without them. I think of Erin, and how blessed I am to know her. I can't begin to list the many things she's done for Emmy over the years.

And before my thoughts can progress to Reagan, I hear her. It's soft and melodic, but powerful.

I'd know her voice anywhere; she used to sing to me.

Now, she sings for everyone else.

My heart pounds. My throat is hot and achy with sadness and regret just hearing her melody. She left so long ago...and she was so young. I may be stubborn, but I'm not a fool; I knew it would be this way when we were finally in the same place again. Awkward. Stupid. I just never thought she'd come home because of me. And as the years passed, I started to believe I'd never see her again.