Time Waits For No One

The Wait That Changed Everything

“Not right now,” he said, his voice tinged with irritation as he gripped the steering wheel. The question had caught him off guard, and it showed.

“I told you, I don’t plan on dying anytime soon, so you’re just gonna have to live with me,” he chuckled, trying to lighten the mood.

She forced a laugh, the kind that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “That’s not what I meant, and you know it. You saw what happened to Ron and the kids when he had to bury Sarah. They didn’t have the money put back. She wasn’t even the breadwinner, and it nearly broke him—paying for the funeral and trying to keep up with the kids’ college costs at the same time. I just want us to be prepared.”

Her voice softened as she spoke, but the weight of her words lingered in the air between them.

There was a pause, a silence that felt heavier than it should have.

He sighed, more out of frustration than agreement. “Well, anyway, it’s not gonna kill us to wait!” he said firmly, waving at another driver to merge ahead of him.

“We’ve gone this long without it,” he added, his tone resolute, as though that settled the matter.

She looked out the window, her lips pressed into a thin line. “Okay, honey,” she said softly, her reluctance clear.

And then they waited.

The rain had just started to fall, light droplets dotting the windshield. The roads were slick, but he didn’t think much of it. They were only a few miles from home.

The light ahead turned yellow. He hesitated for a moment, then pressed the gas.

The car came out of nowhere.

The impact was deafening, a cacophony of screeching tires, shattering glass, and the sickening crunch of metal. The world spun, and then everything went still.

When she opened her eyes, the car was tilted at an odd angle. Smoke curled from the hood, and her head throbbed. She turned to him, panic rising in her chest.

“Honey?” she whispered, her voice trembling. He didn’t respond.

The funeral was a blur. She sat in the front row, clutching tissues and staring at the casket, her mind replaying their last conversation over and over.

“Not right now.”

Short Story by:

Melissa J0hnson