Grace slammed against the airbags, barely clinging to consciousness. Her gaze stayed fixed on the man she had buried a week ago. Was this real? Was she dying, slipping into another world where they were together again? Memories swirled—that awful day the news came, repeating itself as though someone had dragged her back to relive the pain.
“No!” A desperate scream tore from her throat, echoing through the flat. “You’re lying! It can’t be true! My husband would never leave me! He couldn’t have gone like this!”
Her knees buckled as she sank to the floor, barely avoiding collapse. She couldn’t accept it—how could this happen to them, to William? He was so young, full of life. How could he be gone? His boss had called, explaining that a blood clot had ruptured suddenly. The ambulance hadn’t even arrived in time.
“There was nothing anyone could do,” the voice had said. “By the time the paramedics got there, William was already gone.” The words rang in her ears like lines from a horror film, impossible to forget.
What now? How could she live without him? Without him, breathing felt impossible. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but Grace barely felt them. The phone remained pressed to her ear as she stared blankly, unable to speak. She wished this were a nightmare—something she’d wake from, the pain erased by dawn.
The mortuary hadn’t let her see him. Only at the funeral did Grace truly believe it was him in that coffin. Even then, part of her hoped William would walk in from work, laughing, brushing it all off as some cruel April Fools’ joke. Wasn’t today the first of April? Surely he wouldn’t joke like this… but she’d forgive anything, if only he’d come back. He didn’t. He lay there, lifelike yet gone.
Grace lunged for the coffin, sobbing, begging him to wake up, to return. She collapsed, revived by smelling salts. William’s mother could barely stand herself, trying to comfort her daughter-in-law while drowning in her own grief. Only his father kept pulling Grace away, urging her to accept reality. But she fought, always returning to that coffin, calling his name.
The funeral passed in a haze. She watched the lid close, screamed as they pulled her back, begged to be buried beside him. Without William, life was unthinkable. She couldn’t throw dirt onto the coffin—that meant letting go, admitting he was truly gone. Acceptance felt impossible.
Back in their empty flat, Grace tried to gather herself, but the strength lasted mere minutes. Huddled by the wall, she remembered the day they’d met.
“Excuse me, miss—did you drop this?” His voice was warm, teasing. “Miss!” William grinned, holding out a deep red rose.
She’d been walking near the university, reviewing lectures, when he handed it to her.
“That’s not mine,” she said, shaking her head.
“Now it is.” He smiled. “You looked so lost in thought—I wanted to make you smile.”
Grace blushed as she took the flower. She hadn’t even noticed how effortlessly they fell into conversation, how he walked her to her lecture and waited afterward to ask her for a stroll. It was love at first sight—tall, golden-haired, with kind eyes and a voice like warmth itself. William spoke of his family, his dreams, his hopes for love and children. He seemed plucked from the pages of a romance novel.
But now that was gone.
The ghost of a smile faded as Grace dissolved into tears again. Reality was unbearable, stealing everything she’d lived for.
Seven years together, three married. A modest wedding—no need for extravagance when they had each other. Now Grace was alone, without the man who was half her soul.
She barely remembered crawling into bed. Morning came with the shrill ring of her phone. Work. Her boss had given her time, but her temp couldn’t handle the paperwork—she had to go back.
“Grace? It’s Oliver. Got a quick question about the laminate orders—can’t figure out where to log the SKU.”
Her voice was flat. “Top left field. The one labelled ‘Product ID.’”
No anger, no frustration. Just numb instruction. She hung up and collapsed onto the pillows, staring at the empty space beside her. The tears had run dry, but her eyes burned as if filled with sand. She remembered that feeling—childhood, when a neighbor boy had thrown sand in her face during a sandbox fight. The same sharp, stinging pain.
Forcing herself up, Grace shuffled to the kitchen. She needed to eat—she’d barely touched food in days. But the sight of it turned her stomach. A glass of water was all she could manage before retreating.
She couldn’t bear opening photo albums or watching old videos. His voice already haunted her, whispering in her mind, tricking her into thinking he was nearby. But turning around only brought fresh agony—he wasn’t there. Never again.
A week after the funeral, Grace returned to work. Burying herself in tasks offered temporary escape. She became a machine, emotionless. Feeling nothing was easier than enduring the grief.
On Friday, she decided to visit her parents at their countryside home. They’d begged her to come, but Grace had refused—she couldn’t stand pitying looks, couldn’t bear to face their “shared” flat without him. Now, maybe it was time.
Driving down the motorway, Grace barely registered the road. Grief swallowed her anew, tears blurring her vision. She didn’t notice swerving into oncoming traffic until the headlights of a lorry blinded her. The world fell silent, as if fate had finally reunited them. Was William calling her to him?
A sharp shout snapped her back.
“Turn!” A man’s voice. Screeching brakes.
William grabbed the wheel, yanking the car aside. Grace froze—he was here! Alive, yet ethereal, like mist given form. Terrified, she begged him to stay.
The car narrowly missed the lorry but skidded into the barrier. The airbags deployed, knocking the breath from her lungs. A thin trickle of blood ran down her forehead. She stared at William beside her, clinging to those fleeting seconds.
“Am I dead? Are we together?” she whispered.
“Not yet,” he murmured. “You still have people who need you. You’re not alone. Promise me you won’t throw your life away. Live. I can’t stay, but I’ll watch over you. Let me go. And promise to be happy. Don’t let pain steal your future. We’ll meet again.”
Then he vanished, leaving Grace sobbing over the crumpled steering wheel.
The driver’s door wrenched open.
“You alive? Can you hear me?” A middle-aged man, pale and shaking, stared at her.
Grace blinked. His eyelid twitched, face ashen.
“Where’d you get your license, love? Or are you drunk? And the bloke next to you—where’d he go? I saw him!”
The words struck her. William *had* been here. He’d saved her.
Glancing at the lorry parked on the shoulder, Grace realized she’d nearly died in a head-on collision.
“Bloody reckless!” the driver spat. “What were you thinking? I’ve got kids, a wife—you could’ve killed us both!”
Grace didn’t argue. Trembling, she let him drape his coat over her shoulders as they waited for the ambulance and police.
At the hospital, doctors diagnosed exhaustion and dehydration. The lorry driver, too shaken to continue, took sedatives before driving on.
Her parents arrived the next day.
“You’re coming home with us,” her mother insisted. “No arguments. William wouldn’t want this misery for you.”
Grace remembered his last words. He’d meant their child…
As her mother spooned broth into her, the doctor entered.
“You’ll need another week or two to recover. And you must rest—you’re pregnant.”
“Pregnant?” Grace gasped.
“Seven weeks. You didn’t know?”
Tears of joy spilled over. “Mum, I’m pregnant! William’s gone, but he left me our baby…”
In that moment, Grace understood—this little miracle was her reason to live. She’d be strong, raise their child, and tell them all about the kind, loving man their father had been.
And silently, she promised William: *I’ll keep going. For them.*
