Rain struck my neck like needles, the road was slick and inky, but I rode on. I had to get back to my wife, even though I wasn’t expected for two more days. I must have ridden over a thousand kilometres non-stop. My mind was wandering, I don’t even remember when I last stopped, just the constant riding.
We had argued before I left. A baby, she wanted a baby, I didn’t think I was ready, so we had argued and I had left. I had been gone for over a week, and now I needed to get home. I rode hard to get to her, to let her know I loved her, and yes I wanted a baby. It was dark, it seemed like it had been dark forever, but I was close now.
I was home, tired, but home. I climb the stairs to our room, and smiled when I found her waiting at the top of the stairs. She jumps into my arms, tears flowed freely as she holds me. We kiss and gaze into each others eyes, there is no need for any regrets or apologies.
I lift her in my arms and carry her to the bed, we made love, softly and caring, moulding into each other, like nothing could come between us. Exhausted we find sleep, entangled in each others arms, until her phone cries for attention.
She answered with closed eyes, who would call this early she thinks. It was one of the guys that had gone on the ride, he sounds upset, he said he was calling from down south, he said I had had an accident last night, he said I was dead. She sits up quickly, turning to look at the unruffled side of the bed where I should be, and drops the phone. Laying on the pillow is a tiny blue, babies jump-suit, and a small note, ‘Be happy together. I will love you both, always.’