Rob gripped the steering wheel, knuckles white as lightning illuminated his tired face. The echo of Cassie's words—sharp, pained—rang in his ears, drowning out the blare of the radio. Rain lashed at the windows, but the wetness on his cheeks was not all from the storm.
"I'd rather walk home than ride with a stupid drunk like you!"
She slammed the door, heels splashing as she vanished into the night.
Rob slammed the brakes, heart hammering in his chest, but the impact was instant—a sickening thud. The van skidded to a stop, his breath ragged as dread flooded his veins. Outside, Cassie lay motionless, rain pooling around her still form, her hair fanned across the pavement like a dark halo.
"No, no, no—Cassie!"
He fumbled with the seatbelt, panic twisting every movement.
Rob[/@ch_1] stands half out of the sunroof, lost and desperate.]
For the first time in years, Rob closed his eyes and pressed his forehead to the roof of the van, his voice trembling.
"Please, God, don't let her die! Just make this a little accident. I'll live better. Give me another chance!"
Lightning split the sky, thunder roaring so loud it shook the glass. The world spun—colors and shapes smeared into a dizzying vortex, and everything went dark.
Rob blinks, the world sharper, colors brighter. He’s peering out the sunroof of a toy van, the sky impossibly blue above. In front of him, Cassie sits on her diapered bottom, pouting and brushing dirt from her hands.
"Where did you learn how to drive? I think you've had too much apple juice to drink."
Her cheeks are flushed, her eyes mischievous.
Rob looks down, startled by the bulk of his own diaper and the sticky dampness against his skin. He giggles, a sound high and free, as the weight of his former life dissolves. Cassie sticks out her tongue, wrinkling her nose at him, and the tension that once defined their lives is nothing but a shadow.
"Maybe you're right, Cassie. Maybe I need to slow down."
They collapse into laughter, the sun shining down on their second chance.
Rob glances at Cassie, wonder sparkling in his eyes. He may have made terrible mistakes, but now he has a new lifetime stretching out before him—with Cassie at his side, both of them learning to walk, to love, to live all over again. The promise of redemption glows in the morning light, as sweet as the laughter of children.
"Come on, let's play house! This time, I'll drive,"
"Only if you promise not to run me over,"
Their giggles ring out, echoing across the yard and into forever.
