06
Sweetheart.
My precious treasure.
My mother died young, and my father raised
me by himself. He gave me the nickname,
“Sweetheart.”
When Liam found out about it, he called me
that too.
He’d called me that for years. When we were
young, he’d hold my hand as we ran down the
road to school, turning to grin at me, saying,
“Sweetheart, if we don’t hurry up, we’re going
<
to be late!”
On our wedding night, he kissed my forehead,
his fingertips trembling. “Sweetheart, I love
you.”
When my father passed away, he held me
tight, whispering in my ear, “Sweetheart,
you’re not alone anymore. I’ll take care of
you, don’t worry.”
That was when he loved me the most.
But somehow, things had changed. Now,
when he spoke to me, he always called me
Chloe, or Mrs. Walker.
I thought I had forgotten my nickname,
“Sweetheart“.
<
But that night.
After I got him drunk, when I put my hands
around his throat and slowly applied pressure,
he opened his eyes and saw the tears.
streaming down my face. His first reaction
wasn’t to struggle against the rope, but to
ask, his face pale with concern.
“Sweetheart, why are you crying? Did
someone hurt you?”
I was stunned.
He was drunk. He didn’t remember how he
had betrayed me, hurt me. He only
remembered that he loved me and hated.
seeing me cry.
When I told him it was him, it was him who
く
had hurt me…
Liam immediately panicked. He looked at me,
his voice pleading. “I’m sorry, Sweetheart, I
messed up, just hit me, okay? Tomorrow I’ll
take you to old man Johnson’s to get some of
those sweet potatoes, okay?”
When I was a kid, I was obsessed with sweet
treats. I especially loved the sweet potatoes
from old man Johnson’s stand.
But I was too frugal to ever buy them myself.
Liam always saved his money to buy them for
me, and when I tried to give him some, he’d
always refuse, until I forced him to take a
bite.
We were broke, but we were so in love
<
Whenever he upset me, he would stare at me,
like a little dog terrified of losing his owner.
Just like he had that night.
And I gave in. I released him and untied him.
Then, as I walked out the door, I heard him
calling my name, his voice frantic. I walked to
the roof, looked down, and thought if I
couldn’t kill Liam, then I should just kill
myself.
But that thought was quickly interrupted by a
loud roar in the sky.
When I looked up, I saw fireworks exploding
in the sky.
Red, blue, pink.
く
Brilliant, gorgeous, lighting up the night.
They were breathtaking.
Now, staring at the night sky from my
window, unable to see those fireworks of that
night, I said softly, gently:
“In that moment, I suddenly didn’t want to die
anymore. I was even glad I hadn’t killed you. If
I had, I wouldn’t be able to see beautiful
fireworks again.
There was a long silence. I thought that he
was shocked by my confession, but then he
asked. “Do you still want to kill me?”
He sounded serious.
So I thought about it, then seriously answered
him.
“No, I don’t think you’re worth it.”
