Am I going to die? Is this really the end? The questions tumbled through Sarah’s fading mind as she lay motionless on the cold pavement, her body broken and fading, surrounded by the twisted remains of the crash. The sharp, acrid scent of gasoline hung heavy in the air, mixing with the thick smoke rising from the crumpled hoods nearby. Flickering streetlights struggled against the darkness, their dim glow reflecting off the slick pavement, remnants of an earlier rain.
"I need to survive!"
Shattered glass glistened like stardust around her, scattered across the dark street. The stars twisting and warping as her vision faded in and out. The world was slipping away, just like her body.
Her vision blurred in and out as figures moved above her, frantic and uncertain. She caught glimpses of people running, their voices blending into a distant hum. A man dialed for an ambulance, his hands shaking, while others gathered around, their faces pale and wide-eyed.
“She’s too young to die!” A voice—an old woman’s—broke through the murmur, its sharpness cutting into her fading consciousness. The words landed heavy, like stones sinking in her chest.
Why? What did I do to deserve this? Her thoughts swirled in confusion, the darkness pressing closer, suffocating. She tried to lift her hand, to scream for help, but the weight of her body held her down. Silence swallowed her, and her voice remained trapped in her throat.
In the distance, sirens began to wail, faint at first but growing louder, slicing through the stillness. The crowd parted as the paramedics rushed toward her, their voices urgent and clear.
“Make way!” One shouted, his breath fogging in the cool air. Panic rippled through the crowd, their curious eyes wide with fear, stranded in indecision as they glanced between Sarah and the paramedics.
"Miss, can you hear me?" The voice cut through the haze. A young man, maybe in his twenties, hovered above her. She felt the slight pressure of his fingers on her wrist, searching for a pulse. “Can you speak?”
Her mouth opened, but no sound came. Faces blurred in her periphery, their voices muffled and distant, like echoes through water. The stars above twinkled, uncaring and strangely peaceful. Her body grew heavier, sinking into the cold ground.
I don't wanna die…
Warmth pooled around her head, sticky and thick, soaking into her hair. Her floral dress clung to her skin, the once-soft fabric now stained and stiff with blood. The engagement ring on her finger caught the light, its delicate promise of a future flickering, just out of reach.
In an instant, she was on the stretcher. Sirens blared in the distance, and the cold pavement was replaced by the harsh lights of an ambulance. Oxygen masks, hurried hands, and urgent voices filled the small space. The paramedics worked around her, but all she could think of was him.
Harry… I need to find him…
Her lips moved, barely able to form the word. Her breath was weak, a whisper slipping through her cracked lips. “Harry…”
One of the paramedics leaned closer, his ear hovering near her mouth. “Harry…” she repeated, her voice faint, slipping away like the rest of her.
“Stay with me,” the paramedic urged, his voice calm but firm. “Don’t talk.”
A tear slid down Sarah’s cheek as her vision dimmed, the darkness consuming her.
Flashback: Three months earlier…
The bakery smelled of fresh bread, the air warm and comforting. George shuffled to the counter, setting a warm loaf down with a contented sigh. “Good morning, beautiful,” he said, his smile reaching his tired eyes.
Sarah looked up from the register, brushing flour from her apron. The warmth from the ovens had left her skin glowing, and her cropped hair was tucked messily under her chef’s hat. “Good morning, George. How’s your day going so far?”
At twenty-five, Sarah Wayne had become a neighborhood favorite, not just for her baking skills but for the kindness she radiated with every interaction. Her short-cropped hair framed her face neatly, and her fair skin had a rosy glow from the warmth of the ovens. But it was the easy, genuine warmth in her voice that kept regulars like George coming back.
“No complaints,” George chuckled, gripping his walking stick a little tighter as he fumbled for his wallet. His faded blue shirt hung loose on his thin frame, the fabric worn from years of use. His hands trembled slightly as he passed over the money.
Sarah noticed but said nothing, offering him the change with a soft smile. “And Becky? How’s she doing?”
It had only been four months since Sarah had opened this bakery with her boyfriend, Harry Decaprio. In such a short time, the place had become a local favorite, constantly buzzing with customers.
George’s eyes lit up. “She gave birth to triplets!” His pride shimmered in his voice.
Sarah’s eyebrows shot up. “Triplets? That’s incredible!” She handed him the neatly packed bread, her smile warm but eyes wide with surprise. “She won't be alone anymore.”
“Yeah,” George said, his voice tender. He held the shopping bag, not yet ready to leave. “And how’s that handsome young man of yours?”
Sarah’s hands paused for a brief second, wrapping pastries for another customer. She exhaled softly, keeping her smile in place as she turned back to George. “Harry’s doing well. Still chasing his dream.”
At sixty, George had known Sarah for years. He’d been a loyal customer at her previous bakery, where she used to work, and had always tried to set her up with his grandson, much to her amusement. Every time, Sarah would remind him that she already had a boyfriend.
“And when are you two tying the knot?” George asked with a playful grin, leaning on his walking stick.
That familiar knot tightened in Sarah’s chest. The question everyone seemed to ask. She adored Harry—he was everything she had ever wanted. But as a struggling actor, he wasn’t ready for the next step. Not yet. She respected that, even if the waiting sometimes gnawed at her.
Before she could answer, her phone buzzed in her apron pocket. Sarah glanced at the screen—a message from Harry: Meet me at 8 at the theater. I’m performing. You’re invited.
Her heart skipped a beat, excitement rising despite the lingering uncertainty. She typed back, Good luck, and tried calling him. Straight to voicemail.
Later, as evening crept in, Sarah stood in front of the mirror in her small rented room. The soft glow of the setting sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm hue over the modest space. The room was tidy, cozy, but barely large enough for one person. A single bed was tucked against the wall, with a wooden dresser by the window, holding the few trinkets she’d managed to accumulate since moving in.
Her phone rested on the dresser, on speaker, while she wrapped a strand of hair around the curling iron.
“So, after two years, he finally invites you to one of his plays?” Maria’s voice crackled through the phone, curiosity dripping from every word.
Sarah smiled faintly, focusing on the curl of her hair. “Yeah. Looks like he’s ready to impress me now.”
“You’re way too patient with him,” Maria teased. “I mean, really, Sarah—when are you two getting married?”
There it was. That question again. Sarah’s hands stilled for a moment, the weight of it pressing against her chest. She forced a soft laugh, keeping her tone light. “We’re both busy,” she said, watching her reflection as she carefully twisted another curl. “Harry’s got more acting projects lined up, and the bakery’s still new. We just need a little more time.”
Maria’s voice softened. “You’re lucky, you know. He’s your business partner, treats you well, and you two make a perfect couple.”
Sarah smiled again, but this time, it didn’t quite reach her eyes. She glanced around the small room, at the bare walls and the single photo of her and Harry on the dresser. Harry was everything she’d ever dreamed of, even if things didn’t move as fast as she might have liked. And though she had never had a serious relationship before Harry—fearing heartbreak—he had proven to her that love could be steady, kind, and patient.
But as she stared at her reflection, she couldn’t help but wonder how much longer she could wait.
Sarah applied her favorite lipstick, its deep crimson hue brightening her pale features, then slipped into her most cherished dress. Anticipation fluttered in her chest like the softest breeze.
As Sarah finished getting ready, she grabbed her phone and bag, preparing for the evening ahead. The message from Harry still glowed on the screen, but there had been no response to her call. She checked her phone again—voicemail.
Excitement simmered beneath her nerves, a part of her thrilled that Harry had invited her to see him perform after all this time. But the silence on the other end of the phone was harder to ignore.
Tonight was special—Harry had invited her to the theater. But as she stepped through the grand doors, their creaking echo swallowed her, and she was greeted by nothing but darkness.
Her brow furrowed, uncertainty creeping in. The space before her seemed vast, and her voice, tentative, called out, "Harry?"
Only silence answered, thick and eerie, wrapping itself around her. Then, faint and familiar, a sound broke through the quiet—the distant trill of a phone ringing. Her pulse quickened. It was Harry’s ringtone.
Following the dim glow of lights that flickered along the floor, Sarah descended the shadowed staircase, each step echoing in the hollow air. The faint light barely cut through the darkness, guiding her deeper into the theater. The ringtone grew louder, pulling her toward the stage like an unseen thread. Then, with a sudden burst, a single spotlight snapped on, illuminating the figure of a man standing in the center of the stage.
He wasn’t Harry.
______________
✨ Good news, dear readers! ✨
My complete book Lost Without You by Sonii Naaz is now available to read! 💖
If you’d like to dive into the full story and enjoy all the chapters, just click the link below.
https://alphanovel.io/novels/romance/lost-without-you-by-sonii-naaz
#Share#Sarah Wayne has lost everything-her savings, her beloved bakery, and the man she once trusted with her heart. Bet。@MoboReader https://web.cdreader.com/en/appshare.html?v=1&bookid=88587322&client_proid=1000&mt=4&corever=1&chl=en_core1_android_google&LangId=3
139Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡPo5J6raswJ
https://abs.ireaderm.net/zyhw/u/p/api.php?Act=facebook&bid=52041119&p2=120161&locale=en-us
Don’t forget to show your love, add it to your library, and leave your precious reviews — your support means the world to me! 🌸📖
ns216.73.216.13da2
and then Add to home screen.