Lucy left the hospital in a rush, the image of Rob lying helpless, with that horrible tube sticking out of his mouth, left her feeling weak and sick. It was bad enough he tried to die by suicide. What came after might be worse. He would be paying for that stunt for a while.

She got halfway to the parking garage, digging in her purse for her keys and the parking ticket she would have to pay upon leaving. “Shit,” she swore. She couldn’t find it. She didn’t want to pay extra fees. She couldn’t verify how long she had been parked.

She stopped suddenly and snapped her fingers. “Shit!” she swore again. Her car wasn’t there. She forgot it was still at Rob’s apartment. She rode in the ambulance with him to the hospital. Now she had to find another way back.

Her mind felt frazzled. After being up most of the night with Rob, the exhaustion finally caught up with her. She assumed it had something to do with her pregnancy. As a rule, she could stay up all night and still survive on a few hours of sleep. But lately, she felt tired all the time.

She walked toward the sidewalk, her hand searching her purse for her phone. She needed to get to Rob’s apartment, grab some clothes, and get back here as fast as possible. She had to make a quick decision. Uber or bus, her mind swirled. Bus or Uber. Spend twenty dollars plus a five-dollar tip and call Uber, or just spend five dollars and grab the bus.

She had her finger on the Uber app when the bus pulled to the stop; its brakes hissing, its muffler blowing smoke. She dropped her phone back in her purse. Instead of pressing the Uber app, she pulled a five-dollar bill from her wallet and boarded the bus.

She took a seat near the rear of the bus, sat down, and leaned her head back. She was so tired. And now she was having doubts. Her mind became a merry-go-round of worries.

She knew Rob needed help. And the kind of help he needed, she couldn’t give him. Rob needed psychiatric help. Lucy had known people like Rob before. She knew Rob most likely suffered from Bipolar Disorder. The signs were all there. The emotional outbursts, the days he was outrageously happy, followed by the days he couldn’t get out of bed. The panic attacks. The drinking to excess. The sex drive.

Something told her that Rob already knew. The doctor had told him. That’s why he never followed up with the doctor. That’s why he started drinking more. He didn’t want to admit it to himself.

And what about their baby? She read somewhere that Bipolar Disorder was hereditary. Would their child suffer the same consequences? Should she even have this baby? How would Rob feel about abortion?

She closed her eyes, wondering if she should stay with him. Even though she did love him, he was far too young for her. They were ten years apart, and their relationship was based entirely on sex. They spent more time in bed than out.

He would be leaving soon on a tour that would take him away for a year. If she didn’t go with him, which she probably shouldn’t, she would be full-blown pregnant, and ready to pop while on the road.

She decided it would be better for both if she got an abortion and went on her way. She wondered how to tell him when she heard the bus’s tires squeal and felt the heavy jolt. Her head cracked like an egg against the window. She groaned as the impact resonated through her skull. She felt her teeth rattle.

Something was running down the side of her cheek. She touched her face with her fingers. Her hand came away covered in blood.

She grew lightheaded, and her vision blurred. She blinked her eyes several times before the darkness surrounded her.

Lucy leaned her head back against the seat and closed her eyes.

© Copyright 2026 k.l.warzala. All rights reserved.