LEO'S POV
The headlights were coming straight at us. Bright white lights getting bigger and bigger until they filled the entire windshield.
"Elena, hold on!" I shouted, but my voice sounded strange, like it was coming from underwater.
I could see her face in the passenger seat, her dark hair whipping around as she turned to look at me. Her mouth was moving, but I couldn't hear what she was saying over the screaming of brakes and the horrible sound of metal twisting.
The impact came like an explosion. Glass everywhere, the steering wheel crushing into my chest, my right hand caught between twisted metal and broken plastic. But the worst part was the silence that came after. The terrible, awful silence.
"Elena?" I called out, but she wasn't moving. "Elena, please. Say something. Anything."
Blood was running down my face, and I could taste copper in my mouth. My right hand was on fire with pain, but I reached over to touch her anyway.
She was so cold. Too cold.
"No, no, no," I whispered. "This isn't real. This can't be real."
But it was real. The accident was real. Elena was gone, and it was all my fault.
"Leo!"
Someone was shaking me. Hands on my shoulders, pulling me up from the wreckage.
"Leo, wake up!"
I opened my eyes with a start, my heart hammering against my ribs. I was sitting up in bed, covered in sweat, my hands shaking like leaves in a storm.
For a moment, I couldn't remember where I was. The hotel room was dark, unfamiliar shadows dancing on the walls. Then I saw her.
Zoe was sitting beside me on the bed, her eyes wide with concern. She was wearing a simple white t-shirt and pajama pants, her hair messy from sleep.
"What happened?" she asked softly. "You were screaming."
I stared at her, trying to make sense of reality. She was here. In bed beside me. When had that happened?
"I..." I started, but my voice came out rough and broken. "I was having a nightmare."
"About the accident?"
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. The images were still so vivid in my mind. Elena's face. The sound of breaking glass. The smell of gasoline and blood.
"You're okay," Zoe said gently. "You're safe. It was just a dream."
She started to move away from me, probably to get me a glass of water or turn on a light, but suddenly I couldn't bear the thought of her leaving. The nightmare felt too real, too close. I needed something solid, something warm, something alive to anchor me to the present.
I reached out and grabbed her wrist.
"Don't go," I said, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. "Please don't go."
"I was just going to—"
But I wasn't listening. I pulled her toward me and wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight against my chest. Her body was warm and solid and real in a way that made the nightmare start to fade.
"Tell me it's not real," I whispered into her hair. "Tell me it was just a nightmare."
She went completely still in my arms, her body tense and rigid. I could feel her heart beating fast against my chest, could smell the faint scent of her shampoo.
"Leo," she said quietly. "What are you doing?"
"I'm sorry," I said, but I didn't let go. "I just... I need to know it wasn't real. The accident. Elena. All of it."
"It was real," she said softly. "The accident was real. But it's over now. It's in the past."
"She's really gone, isn't she?"
"Yes."
The simple word hit me like a physical blow, but somehow hearing it out loud made it easier to bear. Like admitting the truth was the first step toward healing.
"I was driving," I said, the words coming out in a rush. "It was late, and I was tired, but I insisted on driving anyway. She wanted to take a cab, but I said no. I said I was fine."
"Leo—"
"If I had just listened to her, if I had just let her call that cab, she'd still be alive. We'd be married by now. Maybe we'd have kids. Maybe—"
"Stop," Zoe said firmly. "You can't think like that. You can't torture yourself with what-ifs."
"Why not? It's the truth."
"No, it's not. The truth is that a drunk driver ran a red light and hit your car. The truth is that accidents happen, and they're nobody's fault."
I pulled back to look at her face, and I could see tears in her eyes. "How do you know it was a drunk driver?"
"Because I looked it up. After Marcus mentioned Elena, I went online and found the news articles about the accident. The other driver had a blood alcohol level twice the legal limit. He died too, Leo. It wasn't your fault."
I stared at her in shock. "You researched my accident?"
She looked embarrassed. "I wanted to understand. I wanted to understand why you stopped performing, why you seemed so sad all the time. I thought if I knew what had happened, maybe I could help somehow."
"Zoe..."
"The article said you were both wearing seatbelts. It said you did everything right. The only reason you survived was because you were on the driver's side, and the impact happened on the passenger side. It was just... bad luck."
I could feel tears starting to form in my eyes, and I didn't care. For three years, I'd been carrying the weight of Elena's death on my shoulders. For three years, I'd been punishing myself for something that wasn't even my fault.
"I should have died instead of her," I whispered.
"No," Zoe said fiercely. "Don't you ever say that. Don't you ever think that."
"Why not? She was better than me. Kinder, more generous, more—"
"Stop it." She grabbed my face with both hands, forcing me to look at her. "You're a good man, Leo Mercer. You're a brilliant musician and a dedicated teacher, and the world is better because you're in it."
We stared at each other in the darkness, her hands still cupping my face, her eyes bright with unshed tears.
"You really believe that?" I asked quietly.
"I believe it with every fiber of my being."
Something shifted between us in that moment. The air in the room seemed to change, became charged with something electric and dangerous. I was suddenly very aware of how close we were, how her body felt pressed against mine, how her lips were just inches away from my own.