Liza hit the airbags with a dull thud as they deployed at the last moment. She struggled to stay conscious and couldn’t take her eyes off the person she had buried just a week ago. Could it really be true? Or was she dying and passing into some other world where they were together again? Memories swirled in her mind — that day when she was told the terrible news seemed to repeat itself, as if someone was deliberately making her relive the pain, to walk through her heart once more.
“No!” A heart-wrenching scream tore from her throat, filling the entire apartment. “You’re all lying! This can’t be! My husband could never leave me! He wouldn’t do that! He just couldn’t leave!”
She slowly sank to the floor, nearly losing consciousness. She couldn’t accept reality: how could this have happened to them, to Sasha? He had been so young, full of life. How could he have died? His boss had called to inform her that a blood clot suddenly broke loose, and the ambulance didn’t even have time to arrive.
“There was nothing to be done,” the caller said. “When the doctors arrived, Alexander was already dead.” His words echoed in her head like lines from a horror story that couldn’t be erased.
What now? How to live without him? Without him, she couldn’t even breathe. Tears ran down her cheeks, but Liza didn’t feel them. The phone was still at her ear, and she stared straight ahead, unable to say a word. She wished it were a terrible dream that would soon end, and she would wake up forgetting this pain.
They didn’t let her into the morgue, and only at the funeral did Liza see with her own eyes that it was really her husband. Even then, she hoped to the last that Sasha would come home from work, laugh, and say it was all a joke. After all, today was April Fools’ Day! But could anyone joke like that? It was okay, she would forgive… Forgive everything, just so he would come back. But he didn’t come back. He lay in the coffin, as if alive.
Liza threw herself at her husband’s body, sobbed, begged him to get up, pleaded for him to return. She fainted, and they revived her with smelling salts. Sasha’s mother could barely stand on her feet and tried to calm her daughter-in-law but was crushed with grief herself. Only his father constantly pulled Liza away from the coffin, asking her to pull herself together and accept what had happened. But she broke free and ran back to him, calling him back.
The funeral passed for Liza like a fog. She saw the coffin lid being closed, screamed when they dragged her away, begged to be laid beside him. Because she couldn’t live without Sasha. She wouldn’t be able to. She hesitated a long time before throwing a handful of earth on the coffin — that meant finally letting him go, accepting that he was gone. But accepting it seemed impossible.
At home, in the empty apartment, Liza tried to gather her thoughts, but her strength lasted only a few minutes. Curling up by the wall, she remembered the day they met.
“Miss, I think you dropped this?” a pleasant voice said. “Miss!” Sasha smiled, making her turn around.
She was walking near the university, repeating lectures, when he handed her a bright red rose.
“This isn’t mine,” she shook her head.
“Now it’s yours,” he smiled. “You look so thoughtful, I wanted to cheer you up.”
Liza shyly accepted the flower. She didn’t even notice how easily they got acquainted, how he walked her to class, then met her after lessons and suggested another walk. It was love at first sight. Blonde, handsome, with kind eyes and a soft voice — Sasha completely won her over. He told her about his family, plans, dreams of great love and children. He seemed to have stepped out of the pages of a romantic novel.
But now none of that would be.
The warm smile brought by memories quickly disappeared, and Liza started crying again. It was unbearable to return to the reality that had taken everything she lived for.
They had been together for seven years, married for three. A modest wedding, without unnecessary luxury — they didn’t need expensive gifts because they were each other’s most precious thing. And now Liza was left alone, without her beloved, without a piece of herself.
She didn’t remember how she got to bed and fell asleep. The morning phone call woke her. Work. The boss gave her time to recover, but the temporary replacement couldn’t handle the documents — she had to come back.
“Liza, hi! It’s Maxim. Can I have a minute? I have a work question.”
“Go ahead,” she answered dryly, without a trace of emotion.
“I can’t figure out the reports on the new laminate… I don’t understand which field to put the article number in.”
Liza didn’t feel anger or annoyance. She calmly explained what needed to be entered where and ended the conversation. Collapsing on the pillows, she stared at the empty space beside her. The tears seemed to have dried up, but her eyes burned as if someone had poured sand into them. And she remembered that feeling too well. As a child, a boy from next door once threw a handful of sand in her face when they fought in the sandbox. The pain was just as sharp and unpleasant.
Gathering herself with effort, Liza got up and slowly shuffled to the kitchen. She had to eat at least a little — she had eaten almost nothing in the past three days. But the sight of food immediately made her nauseous. She didn’t even want to look. She only drank a glass of water and went back to the room.
She was afraid to touch photo albums or open videos on her phone. She couldn’t hear his voice. It already sounded in her head, and at times she thought he was nearby, calling her. But each time she turned, Liza felt the pain of realization — he wasn’t there. And he never would be.
A week had passed since the funeral, and Liza decided to return to work. There, among documents and tasks, she could temporarily forget the pain. She turned into a machine performing duties without emotions or feelings. It was easier that way. Better to feel nothing at all than to endure this unbearable torment.
On Friday she planned to visit her parents to spend the weekend at their country house. They had long urged her to come, but Liza refused — she didn’t want to see anyone in “their” apartment, couldn’t bear her mother’s sympathetic looks and sighs. But now, perhaps, this would help her start living again.
Driving along the highway, Liza absentmindedly looked at the road, lost in her thoughts. Bitterness overwhelmed her again, and tears ran down her cheeks. She didn’t notice when she drove into the oncoming lane. A truck flashed before her eyes, speeding toward her, but her reaction slowed. It seemed the world disappeared, the sounds vanished, leaving only a deep, frightening silence. Maybe fate finally brought them together? Or was Sasha calling her to him?
She came to from a sharp shout:
“Turn! Turn!” a male voice screamed, and brakes screeched.
Sasha grabbed the steering wheel and sharply turned the car aside. Liza couldn’t believe it — he was here! Alive, but strange, like a ghost woven from fog. She was scared, but she so desperately wanted him to stay.
The car swerved off the truck’s path but the sharp turn caused it to skid and slam into the guardrail. Miraculously, it didn’t flip over. The airbags deployed; the impact was strong, taking her breath away for several seconds. A thin stream of blood ran down her forehead. She looked at her husband sitting beside her. Those moments felt like eternity, moments she didn’t want to lose.
“Did I die? Are we together again?” Liza whispered.
“It’s too early for you to go,” he said softly. “You have those who need you. You are not alone. Promise me you won’t take unnecessary risks anymore. You must live. I can’t be with you anymore, but I’ll watch over you from above. Let me go. And promise to be happy. Don’t let pain take your life. One day, we will meet again.”
And he disappeared. Disappeared, leaving Liza alone, sobbing over the mangled steering wheel.
The car door suddenly swung open.
“Are you alive? Can you hear me?” a man of about forty shouted, sweaty and pale as a wall.
Liza looked at him. His eyelid twitched, his face was pale, and it seemed he had more gray hair.
“Where did you get your driver’s license, girl? Or are you drunk? And the man who was sitting next to you — where is he? I saw him!”
Those words touched Liza. So Sasha really was there. It wasn’t a hallucination. He saved her.
Turning to the truck stopped on the roadside, Liza realized she could have been the victim of a head-on collision.
“You brainless! How do you drive like that?! Why did you go into the oncoming lane? I nearly had a heart attack! I have kids and a wife at home, and you here! Because of you, I could have lost everything! Do you even understand what you’re doing?”
Liza silently shook her head and tried to get out of the car. Her whole body trembled from the cold. The driver gave her his jacket while they waited for the ambulance and police.
When they arrived, questioning and examination began. Liza admitted her guilt — she lost control, lost in memories. Only one thing she didn’t say — that her husband’s ghost saved her.
The car was towed to the impound lot, and Liza was hospitalized — doctors diagnosed exhaustion and dehydration. The driver was also given a sedative. He decided to stop at a gas station — it was impossible to continue driving in that state.
The next day, her parents rushed to the hospital.
“We’re taking you home with us! No arguments! I nearly lost my mind when I found out what you’d done to yourself! Sasha wouldn’t want you to suffer like this,” her mother lamented.
Liza remembered her husband’s last words. He meant their child…
When her mother sat her down and started feeding her broth, a doctor entered the room.
“You need to stay another week or two to recover. You need to take care of your nerves — you’re pregnant.”
“Pregnant?” Liza blurted.
“You’re seven weeks along. Didn’t you know?”
“I’m pregnant…” she whispered, hugging her mother and crying tears of happiness. “Mom, I’m pregnant! Sasha is gone, but he left me our child…”
At that moment, Liza realized: for this little miracle, she must live. For him, she would pull herself together, be strong, and definitely tell the baby how kind, loving, and bright his father was.
And she mentally whispered to her husband:
“I promise. For him, I will survive.”
