At 9:15, Heather was thinking about Robert when the tractor trailer plowed into her. Her car flipped over, slamming into a guardrail. Upside down, head throbbing, her hand grazed the door handle, and with her last breath, she whispered, “Bobby.”
Years later, Robert would swear that at 9:15, he heard a voice whisper “Bobby.” Odd. Only Heather called him that.
But what he would never forget — could never forget — was at 9:15 he knew he should call Heather and apologize for walking out the night before. Send her flowers. Take her to dinner. And plead with her to take him back.
© Natalie Goodwin, 2019
Natalie Goodwin 