In the early morning, Anna gushed about the clothes again. “Oli, you really have an eye for this,” she said, giggling. “Wearing a suit makes you radiate sexual tension.” She added with a smirk, “There’s something thrilling about sleeping with someone else’s husband.”
Just then, Oliver called me back, saying he was taking me for our wedding photos. He mentioned he’d finished his makeup and was already in his suit. Heart racing with excitement, I slipped into the worn wedding dress from that year and sprinted toward the car.
It was five minutes before the crash. As I rushed, Anna began scrolling through her child’s ultrasound orders. “I’m pregnant,” she announced nonchalantly. “I stuffed the pregnancy test into your clothes. Want to bet when Lisa will find out?” She turned to Oliver, her eyes glinting. “Are you happy about becoming a father?”
The lights dimmed as if orchestrated by fate, plunging everything into darkness except for the bright yellow glow of my phone screen. My heart raced, a chilling dread creeping over me. It had taken an hour for the nearest ambulance to arrive that day, and I felt as if my entire world was crumbling around me.