Love Remains

by Zrinka Jelic

  “Please, don’t do this.” Her chin trembled and she barely uttered the words. Her eyes glued to the rear-view mirror. The combination of letters and numbers of the pickup’s rust covered license plate on the front bumper stood out in the intense light. Her panic stricken mind screamed to write the plate number. She tapped around the dashboard, hoping she would find a writing instrument and found a marker under her palm. With a shaky hand she scribbled the plate numbers on her forearm, felt tip digging into her skin.

  Three bright yellow signs ahead warned her she was entering a sharp bend. The truck sped to her rear bumper again. A piercing scream tore from her mouth. She slammed on the brake. The truck rammed her car and pushed her off the road.

  A deafening sound of screeching metal ripped through her ears. The van shook and groaned on uneven ground. She cradled her head in her arms. The airbag deployed and the impact knocked her hard.

  Her head swam. She fought to hold on and not slip into inviting darkness.

  “Who will it be, Olivia? Tom or Tadem?” The angel’s calm voice dissolved into silence.

  “I can’t choose. Don’t make me.” She mumbled with the last of her strength, surrendering to oblivion while the Phantom’s voice grew distant, or maybe it was Tom’s.

  • • •

  “Miss? Can you hear me?”

  Olivia’s lashes fluttered, but she couldn’t open her eyes. She coughed. A sharp pain ripped through her chest. Her head was propped. Something stiff was fitted around her neck. At least she didn’t have to struggle to find a comfortable position to relieve the agony. Darkness opened up in front of her once again. She wanted to slip there.

  “Stay with me, Miss Owen.” The woman demanded, clapping her hands above Olivia’s ear. “Stay with me.”

  Olivia moaned. Why did the woman keep addressing her by her maiden name?

  “I’m Amira. We’re from the local EMS. We’ll get you out of here.” The woman’s demanding voice yanked her back to the cold and uninviting world.

  “Medar,” she whispered.

  “I’m sorry?” Amira leaned her ear over Olivia’s mouth.

  Latex covered fingers pulled down on Olivia’s lids. Amira flashed the light in each eye. “Pupils are normal.”

  “I’m Mrs. Medar.” Olivia tried to scan the scene through her lashes. The flashing lights of the emergency vehicles parked on the road above stood out in the dim light of dawn.

  “Your driver’s license identifies you as Olivia Owen.”

  Olivia’s heart sank. She was back in her old, empty world. There was a time she’d give anything for this chance, now she’d give it all away to be with Tom and her children.

  Still, a sliver of hope lived in her mind. “Please, find my husband.”

  Amira patted her arm. “Let us get you out first.”

  A firefighter approached her. “Miss, can I get you to cross your arms over your abdomen? That’s great. Keep them like that.”

  He grabbed her shoulders. “I’m going to sit you upright and my colleague will slide the board behind you. If you experience any pain, let me know right away. Are you okay to proceed?”

  “Yes.” She answered with a weak voice. All she wanted was to find Tom and the sooner she was pulled out of this wreck, the sooner she could start.

  “Easy now.” The firefighter pulled her up. “Any pain?”

  She bit her lower lip and whimpered. “No, I’m fine.”

  “Are you sure?” Doubt crept into the man’s deep voice. “’Cause we can pull the car apart to free you.”

  “I’m sure.” Her words came out with a whoosh of air.

  He studied the writing on her forearm. “What’s this?”

  “License plate of the pickup that rammed me into the ditch.” Good thing her scribbling had not wiped out. She wrote it with Milo’s washable marker. “The road was covered in snow. Airbag hit me hard in the face.”

  “Airbag? Snow?” The man gave a reluctant cough. “Your Mercedes is a vintage. It’s not equipped with airbags. There has been no snowfall in over two months.” He continued to work around her. “I’m glad you kept your wits and wrote the plates down. Catching them won’t be hard. Clever guys have done this before.”

  Her old Mercedes? If she mentioned she drove a van when she got pushed off road, they may book her into psych ward.

  Amira reappeared next to her. “Ready?”

  Olivia nodded. Their hands grabbed the board attached to her back and in a fluid motion pulled her out. The stretcher seemed to expand under her legs and in the next instant the four EMS personnel carried her to the road and placed her on a gurney. An oxygen mask lowered over her nose and mouth. Blankets were wrapped around her. The mobile bed was pushed at the back of the ambulance. The back door slammed shut and the vehicle drove off with blaring sirens.

  “Please, can you notify my husband?” Olivia pleaded with Amira, but deep down she knew better.

  “A constable will take your statement in the hospital.” Amira turned her head at the driver’s divider. “We’ll be there in a few minutes.”

  The ambulance pulled up at the entrance. A morsel of Olivia’s worries chipped away. At least the pain in her neck and shoulders would be alleviated, and meds would knock her out cold. She craved the glorious oblivion.

  The rear door popped open and Amira jumped out. “Thirty-five-year-old female with multiple contusions and abrasions, no obvious fractures, BP is one-ten over seventy, heart rate normal.” She placed the clipboard on Olivia’s legs and continued to shout her condition while the crew of two nurses and a doctor rolled her down the long corridor. When the gurney came to a stop in front of the double glass door, she squeezed Olivia’s shoulder. “You’re in good hands now. Take care.”

  Olivia nodded and stared at Amira’s back, her black hair pulled in a thick braid bouncing against the white EMS letters of her deep navy jacket.

  The rest of the day passed in examinations and x-ray rooms. The doctor couldn’t explain why her bruises were consistent to that of a deploying airbag, yet there had not been one in her car. They considered her very lucky for not sustaining serious injuries. At last, she was left alone in her room. As time passed she grew more anxious to get out of the hospital and return home. Before supper time, a police officer came to take her statement. She filed an accident report, describing the pickup truck, including the license plate.

  “Have you notified my husband?” She handed the paper back to the uniformed officer.

  The man tilted his head toward the tiled floor then leveled his eyes with hers. “Sorry, miss. We’re still looking. Thank you for your co-operation. Get yourself some rest.”

  He replaced his cap and left her room.

  Right, they’re still looking. They all must think her a total wacko, with her crying for a husband and children who didn’t exist. If she didn’t stop, they would send her to a shrink and she would never get out of here. What if her double was with Tom and he couldn’t tell the difference? Stop it. He said to trust him. Besides, you know there is no double. The meds kicked in and pulled her into a blissful sleep.

  • • •

  The next day, a nurse handed her the large, clear plastic bag with her belongings sealed inside. She shook them out of the sack onto the bed and shifted through them. The notebook where she’d written all the phone numbers and addresses came into focus. With a shaky hand she picked up the thin item and flipped through the pages. They were blank. All her efforts in the other life were useless. She threw the book onto the pile as tears stung her eyes. An item slid out of it. She clasped her hand over the shiny object to prevent it from falling off her bed. And exhaled a shaky breath at the sight of Tom’s tie pin, the one she’d given him at Christmas. Maybe he’d placed it in her notebook. If she could bring an object from the future perhaps that explained why had the license plate of the pickup remained on her arm.

  “The doctor is discharging you today. You won’t need this anymore.” Her nurse removed her IV oblivious to Olivia’s ast
onishment. “Is there anyone who can take you home?”

  “No.” She was alone again. Once that had suited her just fine, but now … she wouldn’t survive her solitude. Numbness gripped her and her will for living was dying, but she wouldn’t allow her memory for Tom and their children to wither.

  An hour later, she left the hospital with a few prescriptions in her pocket. Strange, snow didn’t cover the ground and the grass had turned green. It was warm in the cab. She leaned toward the driver. “Would you mind turning the heat down?”

  “Heat’s not on. Do you want some a/c back there?” He threw his question over his shoulder.

  “Yes, please.” She leaned back and stared out the window. Spring.

  Her house mocked her with empty and deadly silence. And worst of all, everything stood in its place. No toys lay scattered on the floor. No scents of Tom’s cooking wafted in the air. No blaring cartoons or Milo sprawled on the carpet in front of television. No sweet giggles of her beautiful baby girl.

  Olivia’s arms ached to hold her children, to cover them in kisses, to tell them how much she loved them. Pain in her heart exploded and shattered her chest. She wanted her family life back, all of it. Even her weight gain.

  “Tom. Milo. Rosie.” She stumbled through the house, calling their names, looking for any sign of their existence. The nursery once again served as storage for the boxes with her old junk. Tears streamed down her face.

  “Give them back to me, they’re mine.” Her shouts echoed around empty walls. No answer. Anger flared in her. “Damn it, did you hear me? They’re mine.”

  A speck of light twinkled in the darkness and expanded until the room filled with its glow. She flattened her back against the cold wall. The angel heard her.

  “You’re seeing me in my purest form.” The light shimmered with angel’s voice. “Can you see it? Without love, there’s nothing. You want to give up this future for your career?”

  “No, I choose love. Please, I’ll do anything you want,” Olivia uttered through her tight throat. The angel was testing her. A vision of Rosie’s baby fingers wrapped around hers flashed before her eyes. No money in the bank, no property or expensive car could measure up to what had been taken away from her. “Return them to me. They’re so little. They need me.”

  “Your children have not been born. To see Tom your soul must enter Heaven.”

  Her chin dropped and her quivering breath filled the silence. “I’d have to die to get there.”

  “You said you’ll do anything. He’s waiting for you.”

  She shook her head, her back slid down the wall. Her mind refused to accept the angel’s words. Yes, she’d agreed to do anything, but not to commit suicide. “No, he’s not dead. I know he’s not.”

  Frustration forced her to raise her voice, but the light continued to intensify and the same daze settled over her. On her wobbly legs, she staggered to her bedroom and collapsed in the bed. With her face buried in the pillow, now devoid of Tom’s sea scent, she broke down and surrendered to sobs. Tom was out there, somewhere, probably searching for her. But just as her address book turned up blank, all the records about them could disappear. The angel had to have something to do with it.

  “To hell with you.” She tossed the pillow at the fading light. “I’ll find Tom.”

  Her eyelids drooped and she hovered between sleep and wakefulness for a few moments. The light shrunk and vanished, leaving her in darkness.

  • • •

  The sound of a phone ringing pierced through her sleep. She flipped to her side, but the shrill clangor reverberated in her head.

  “Tom.” Her eyes snapped open. She closed them fast as the sunbeam piercing through open blinds fell across the bed.

  She glued the receiver to her ear, hoping to hear his voice.

  “Olivia?” Jess’s whisper came through.

  Olivia’s heart sputtered, but hearing a familiar voice gave her some assurance that things weren’t hopeless. “Yes?”

  “Mr. Hiltorn’s livid. You didn’t come to work or call or email again. Are you sick?”

  Of course, in this life she worked, not lived a life of a stay-at-home mom on maternity leave. And Hiltorn was a free man. “I was in a car accident. I spent almost two days in the hospital.”

  “Oh my god,” Jess shrieked, then lowered her voice. “Are you okay?”

  “Just bruised. My car is totaled, though.” She sat in bed and propped her head on her hand. If Hiltorn was livid with her, it could mean he was making everyone’s lives a living hell. No need for her co-workers to suffer because of her. She would dose up on pain killers and drag her sore body to work. “I’ll be there in a few.”

  “Are you sure you want to come in?” Hiltorn’s growling drifted from Jess’s end and confirmed Olivia’s decision. Jess continued when boss’s barking ceased. “Not your Mercedes, I hope. You love that car.”

  “Yeah, but was told I’ll get good money for parts. Tell Hiltorn I’ll be there.” She replaced the receiver and stepped in the shower. Warm water helped loosen up her stiff muscles and she wished she could stay under the spray forever. Her thoughts were constantly with her children and husband. Kids she never had and if she couldn’t find Tom, she wouldn’t have them. Sadness swept over her, tightening her ribcage. A long wail wrenched her body. No point dwelling on that. She needed to get her ass into gear and not stop until she accomplished her goal. The corporate world had taught her a tough life lesson she planned to use.

  She shut the water and stepped out. Wrapped in a towel, she opened her closet and found all her business suits hanging. Her girly, fun wardrobe she’d come to adore was gone. No amount of makeup would cover the bruises. And why hide them? Let the employees see Hiltorn forced her to show her face at work so soon after the accident.

  Her convertible two-seater sat in the garage, its key hanging on the rack by the door. Everything was in the same place, as if she’d never left this life.

  At the office people’s eyes widened and many turned their faces away at her approach. Some asked if she was okay, others wanted to know what happened. But it was the genuine concern in their voices and eyes that touched her. Wasn’t she the corporate slut?

  Jess’s crumpled face met her at the door. “He wants to see you in his office. Right away.”

  Olivia put her purse on the desk in her office and squeezed Jess’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. It’s all right.”

  “It doesn’t look good. You don’t look good.”

  “Looks worse than it is.” A long sigh filled her with calm and she stepped into Hiltorn’s office. “You wanted to see me?”

  “Owen, close the door and sit.” Without looking at her, he flicked his hand toward a chair across from his desk. She took a seat, but he kept his eyes glued to the computer screen. If he did this for fear effect, it was wasted on her. To think how much she had respected him not so long ago.

  He swiveled his chair, facing her, his forearms flat on the desk. “I have had enough of your tardiness. For the past three months, I’ve been watching you drag your sorry ass around here, when you granted us with your presence. You are, or were, the best of the best so I figured you’d snap out of whatever gripped you.” He paused and leaned back in his leather high back recliner. “I’ve fired people for less. No. Wait. I had you fire them for me. But I can’t have you fire yourself, so consider me dismissing you a privilege.”

  “Yes, I’m honored you extended me the courtesy.” She couldn’t hide the sarcasm in her voice. Not that she tried.

  Deep creases formed around his mouth with his frown. “How dare you show such impertinence?”

  She stood, slowly and ground her molars. “How dare you kick me to the curb after I did your dirty business for years?”

  He slapped his hands on the desk and pushed to his feet, leaning over the table. “I never asked you to spread your legs for any of my business clients, but who am I to meddle in your stuff? Helped me score a few deals and got you a promotion or two. Now clean out y
our office. You could’ve been a part of something special.”

  She dug her nails in her palms. Those days were nothing to be proud of, but at least she had cast her promiscuity away now and wouldn’t go back. Her hand almost flew to his cheek, but she had to show him she was better than that. He probably wanted her to slap him so later he could accuse her of an assault. After five years, she was ordinary and unimportant. Just as the countless employees she’d dismissed whose hard work and dedication to the company went up in smoke.

  “No, you can’t fire me. Because I quit. And I am a part of something special.” At least she would be once she reunited with Tom. She stepped to the door.

  “One more thing.” Hiltorn’s irate voice stopped her on her way out. “The gun I gave you is company property.”

  Holding onto the knob, she snapped her head toward him. Of course, the gun. In her misery she’d forgotten about the pistol in her closet. “You can’t expect me to bring it here. I can’t be caught in public with a concealed weapon.”

  “Didn’t bother you when you took it home.” He grabbed the pen from the holder on his desk.

  Okay, he had a point there. Still she would be dammed to let him have that gun.

  He scribbled on a sticky page and handed her the neon note. “Take it to this pawn shop. Ask for Steve. Say I sent you.”

  She flicked an eyebrow. So this was how she ended up pawning the gun. “Should this shop be buying illegal weapons?”

  “My … acquaintance will take care of it.” Hiltorn straightened and shoved his hands inside his trouser pockets. She gave him a once over. His smug expression confirmed her suspicion. He was putting the blocks in place for shooting Mr. Baldwin. Her heart sped, but she maintained her current appearance.

  “Yes, boss, anything you say,” she smirked then pulled the door open and bolted out of Hiltorn’s office.

  Cleaning her space took no time. There were no family pictures or any personal items. She stowed her framed diploma under her arm and grabbed her purse. Jess stood in the doorway, her brows knitted. At least she granted her silence.