The rain came down in sheets, turning the windshield into a blurred watercolor of streetlights and neon signs. Alex gripped the steering wheel tighter, knuckles pale against the worn leather. His coat still carried the metallic tang of the storm, mixed with the stale coffee on his breath from the double shift at the dealership. Thirty-nine years old, and some days he felt every minute of it in his lower back, in the ache behind his eyes.
He killed the engine in the apartment parking lot and sat there for a long moment, listening to the rain drum on the roof. The place was quiet—too quiet. Sarah's car was in its spot, lights on in the living room window. Usually she'd be asleep by now, or pretending to be. Tonight felt different.
Alex climbed the stairs slowly, keys jingling too loud in the stillness. The door stuck like always; he shouldered it open and stepped inside.
The air hit him first—warm, heavy, laced with something musky and unfamiliar beneath Sarah's vanilla body spray. Then the sounds: muffled laughter, a sharp intake of breath, the creak of bedsprings from down the hall.
He knew. God, he knew before he even reached the bedroom door.
It stood ajar, a sliver of lamplight cutting across the scuffed hardwood. Alex pushed it open with two fingers.
Sarah froze on top of someone—someone he recognized even from the back. Mark. His oldest friend. The sheets were tangled around their waists, her blonde hair damp at the temples, skin flushed. Mark's hand was still on her hip, fingers splayed possessively.
For a second nobody moved. Rain hammered the window like it was trying to get in.
Sarah's mouth opened, closed. "Alex—"
Her voice cracked on his name. Mark scrambled for the sheet, face going blotchy red. "Dude, wait—"
Alex didn't yell. He just stood there, taking in details he'd never unsee: the indent of Mark's wedding ring on the nightstand (he'd taken it off), Sarah's bra dangling from the lampshade, the faint red marks on her throat that weren't from him.
thought: *Fifteen years. Fifteen years and this is what I come home to.*
The silence stretched until Sarah couldn't stand it. She clutched the sheet to her chest, eyes shiny. "Baby, please. It didn't mean anything. It just… happened."
"Just happened," Alex repeated. His voice sounded distant, like someone else's. Calm. Too calm.
Mark found his boxers, fumbling them on. "Man, I'm sorry. We were drinking, and—"
"Don't." Alex cut him off quietly. Mark shut up.
Sarah slid off the bed, wrapping the sheet around herself like armor. "We can talk about this. We can fix—"
"There's nothing left to fix." The words tasted like ash. He looked at her—at both of them—and felt something inside him go still and cold. "I'm done."
He turned and walked out. Didn't slam the door. Just closed it softly behind him.
The hallway blurred. He was back in the rain before he realized he'd moved, coat half-buttoned, shoes soaking through. The car started on the second try. He pulled out of the lot too fast, tires hissing on wet asphalt.
The roads were slick, reflectors glowing like eyes in the dark. He didn't know where he was going—just away. Radio off. Wipers thumping in rhythm with his pulse.
thought: *Mom died alone in that hospital bed. I was too busy closing a deal to be there. Sisters stopped calling years ago. And now this.*
The curve came up faster than he expected. He braked hard—too hard. The car hydroplaned, spinning once, twice. Headlights swept across guardrail, trees, sky. Metal screamed. Glass exploded inward, cold rain and shards stinging his face.
Impact.
Pain bloomed everywhere at once—ribs, shoulder, a wet crunch in his leg. The airbag punched him like a fist. Blood in his mouth, copper-bright.
The world tilted. Rain drummed on what was left of the roof.
thought: *If I could go back…*
The thought came clear and sharp, cutting through the haze.
thought: *Eighteen. Start over at eighteen. Before I pushed everyone away. Before I settled.*
Darkness crept in at the edges, soft and inviting.
thought: *Please. Just… let me try again.*
The rain kept falling. Somewhere far off, sirens began to wail.
Everything went quiet.