Page 13 of ’Til You Break

And if I’m not careful, I might end up getting exactly what my imagination keeps asking for.

I also have no idea what either of us would do if those dangerous thoughts ever became reality.

***

I don’t drive, though I probably should at my age. Taking a taxi from Vik’s house into the city is a long trip and the fares are going to add up quickly.

But the thought of driving terrifies me. It has, since the accident.

Handing the responsibility to someone else eases the burden for me a little, yet I still find myself gripping the armrest too tightly or slipping into a quiet panic whenever I’m in a car.

I suppose that’s inevitable after seeing firsthand what one mistake can do.

Even so...

I can’t blame the driver for what happened that night.

I can only blame myself.

“You doing alright back there?” the cabbie asks.

The honest answer is no. Everything feels unsettled. If it’s not Vik himself doing the unsettling, then it’s the fact that I can’t stop thinking about him. Worse still, those feelings never arrive when they should. Never in the heat of the moment, but afterward, once I’ve had time to calm down.

Then they hit me all at once.

I should have felt this in the kitchen this morning. Not during a quiet taxi ride through the city.

“I’m fine, thank you,” I answer. “Just a little nervous.”

“Don’t be.” He smiles warmly. He is an older man, and his calm voice settles my nerves.

“You’re going to do great.”

I frown, opening my mouth to ask how he knows where I am going, but no words come.

He chuckles at my confusion.

“The way you’re dressed tells me you’ve got something important going on. I’ve been driving cabs long enough to recognize the signs. Whatever it is, you’re going to do great. Believe in yourself.”

I wasn’t expecting kindness—or even wisdom—from a taxi driver this morning. Least of all, in the final few blocks of the journey.

But I appreciate it all the same.

We don’t speak again before we arrive at Coco’s, the restaurant Lindsey chose, but every so often I catch him smiling at me in the rearview mirror. It’s a warm, fatherly smile that suits his weathered face.

I’d have liked to leave him a bigger tip, but I simply can’t afford it. I thank him anyway, and as I climb out of the taxi, I find that our brief conversation left me feeling just a little lighter.

Lindsey is already waiting outside Coco’s.

She greets me with a bright smile and a half-hug before we fall into easy small talk.

It doesn’t last long.

As soon as our drinks arrive, the real conversation begins.

“God, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there to help you, Hannah,” Lindsey says, fiddling with the long straw sticking out of her Strawberry Daiquiri.

“Don’t be.” I smile, instinctively reaching across the table to give her wrist a reassuring squeeze. “There wasn’t much either of us could have done.”