Matty's POV
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Coffee, strong black coffee helps when it's 5am and you have barely slept. I glance at my phone one more time, my wallpaper stares back at me. An old picture I still haven't replaced. Taylor and myself, on our first date in the rose garden. I look at her and see the happiness and presence in her eyes and I tell myself that one day she will be mine again.
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No messages from Ross, just my missed calls. Since we arrived back from Australia, and the wedding, he's been more distracted. Often I'll find him just staring into his food, like he's just thinking. Continually. He proposed to Taylor, just days before she married my best friend Jay, it's a delicate situation to say the least. And now Ross isn't jumping for joy, because she said no to him, and to Jay she told him I do.
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I will my phone to illuminate, to give me some kind of hope that he is safe and on his way back. In the end having stared into the darkness for far too long I decide I cannot rest and so I swing my legs out of bed. Pull on some jeans and a jumper, grab my car keys and bolt down the stairs.
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I'm greeted by the rain as I leave the house, slamming the door behind me. I hop into my 4x4, reverse off the drive and I'm on my way to find him.
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Trouble is I have no idea where he may be, for all I know he could be distracting himself in another women's bed or drinking a bar dry. I decide that searching the main highways is probably a good place to start. I light up a cigarette crack the window just slightly and drive. I'm being proactive, I'm getting this done. The odds that he reaches the house while I'm out pop into my head and I curse him for not answering my call. When I see him, I may just slap him.
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I am halted by a string of stop signs, each one I curse at. It's made more frustrating by the absence of other cars on the road, and I'm left feeling like I'm waiting for nothing. Eventually though, I reach the main highway, I cruise unbelieving that I will see anything. I convince myself he's rebounding on another woman, after a blow like that, a denied marriage proposal. I picture him passed out in bed next to some girl he met. I tell myself he is fine. He is not driving around like a sad loser.
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Trying his phone again, I'm optimistic that now he will just pick up. I will drive myself home, we'll meet there and laugh it all off. He will apologise for worrying me, we'll laugh at how we act like a damn married couple. All will be forgiven and I will be able to sleep.
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The phone rings and I grip onto my steering wheel waiting for the call to connect. Because even if he was with a girl he would have woken up by now, he would have let me know that he was safe. And even if he was in a bar, he would have answered just to stop me from calling and bothering him.
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The call disconnects, and I worry a whole load more. I scrape my brunette hair back, and even though I shouldn't I light up another cigarette. Inhaling the smoke gives me something to do instead of dwelling on all of the disastrous possibilities that could have befallen him.
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I contemplate calling Rachel, and decide that would cause a panic. Although Rachel can be rather self centred most of the time, this would cause her a lot of stress.
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It's five am and the highway is clear, nothing but the sound of rain pattering on my windscreen. I'm overreacting, there's no sign of him out here. No sign of anything out here, just more and more empty road to cross.
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At the next junction I decide that I will turn around and head back the way I came. He's a twenty four year old man, firstly he can take care of himself and more importantly I'm not his keeper. He has most likely just holed up somewhere for the night, and in the morning he will walk through the door cocky and pleased with himself. Talking to me about his night out.
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I begin getting in lane to exit the highway, when just ahead I see lights. On second inspection I can see several emergency vehicles. I try my best to work out what kind of incident it could be, drawing conclusions in my head and coming up with the worst possible scenarios.
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I open my window again, approaching the scene of an incident on the opposite side of the road. Ahead I can see police tape sectioning off my side of the highway and I slow right down heading in the direction of an officer.
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I come to a complete stop, the officer waving his arms at me.
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"Good morning sir, there's been a traffic incident ahead" he instructs me.
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"You'll need to take the next junction directly off" he begins.
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"It's my friends car" I say stunned. I can see his number plate from here. Ross' white sedan turned over, glass smashed clearly from the windows. The front of the car indented into the barriers.
"Right" the officer says, looking at me carefully for signs of shock.
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"A lorry.." I begin unbelieving.
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Looking at the scene, it’s not hard to tell that a lorry went into his passenger side and he then veered off into the centre of the highway. I curse my gut feelings for being on point. In order to flip a car though, they must have been going at quite some speed.
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“It happens at night, people drive faster. They feel safer because there’s nobody else on the road.” The officer surmises as if he can read my thoughts. Really he’s just as horrified as me, I look over what’s left of Ross’ car and soon I’m going to have to address my other concerns.
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"He had no passengers ?" I ask, must stay calm.
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"No and no evidence for drink driving" he clarifies.
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Ross wasn't enjoying himself, he wasn't drinking in a bar. He hadn't picked up any girls. He was just out, out to be away from everything.
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“He’s been taken to hospital” the officer says breaking the silence between us.
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“Which one” I ask still looking at the car.
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“The one in town it’s the closest, he needed immediate attention. Thankfully the lorry driver was conscious enough to call for an ambulance. Otherwise at this time who would have known? And how long would it have taken for anybody to get out here” the officer explains. Something tells me that he is relatively new to his job, he hasn’t seen a traffic incident as bad as this before. It has affected him. His professionalism, which I’m sure is normally on point has dropped.
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I thank him for his time and he asks me a few brief questions about Ross’ insurance but I have to say of all of the things I know about him I have no idea about any of that, the car will have to be removed from the highway and scrapped. Just glancing at it, you could be sure that there will be no putting it back together again.
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As I turn my own car away from the wreck and head for the next junction off of the highway Ross’ words echo in my head.
“I’ve just gotta grab a few things, it will help to clear my head rather than listening to you go on about art and crap” he had said to me before he left earlier.
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Instead of thinking about him and his welfare I was thinking about Taylor. I barely listened to him, didn’t even notice when he left grabbing his car keys. I should have questioned him, gone with him.
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I sit in my car wishing that I could call Taylor. All of the messages I have sent her, most of them have been undeliverable. It’s giving don’t contact me, I’m on my honeymoon. Either that or she is somewhere without cell phone coverage.
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I call her, if anything just to hear her voicemail. Her dial tone continues as I’m driving to the hospital. I know how many rings it takes for her voicemail to kick in by now, and I count down.
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“Hey, this is Taylor, you know what to do” I hear her saying and I smile for the first time since I left her on a beach in Tasmania. Then the beeps hit and I realise I have to send some kind of message, otherwise it would just look odd me calling her and letting it go to voicemail only to hang up.
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I sigh pushing my hair back, and remembering all of my current problems.
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“Hey Taylor, and Jay.” I begin, I add on his name because I have to.
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“When you get this can you give me a quick call back. Hope you’re enjoying your honeymoon” I say and then I hang up. I don’t want to worry her, although I’m sure the panic and worry is evident in my voice.
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