- 2.
My wounds reopened, blood flowing.
<
I gasped, a moan escaping my lips.
A flicker of pity crossed Ethan’s eyes.
He hesitated, then reached for me.
But then, Olivia walked in, stopping him.
I pushed down any foolish hope, biting my lip.
Between Ethan and me was a sea of hatred.
It couldn’t be bridged with a simple step.
Olivia glared at me, then threw herself into
Ethan’s arms.
She held up her bandaged arm, crying
dramatically.
“Ethan, Rachel hurt my arm because she lost
her baby, don’t blame her!”
Ethan’s heart softened at the word “Ethan.”
I closed my eyes, resigning myself.
Since meeting Olivia, he’d never believed me. On our first night together, she fell down the stairs, covered in blood, claiming I’d pushed
her.
Janoring my denials, he dragged me down the
<
stairs too.
I broke my leg and several ribs.
I spent a month in the hospital.
Afterward, I avoided Olivia, but it was no use.
She claimed I’d poisoned her food, making
her sick.
Ethan locked me in the basement until I was
near death.
Three days ago, Olivia burst into the temple
with a voodoo doll.
She sobbed, claiming I wanted to prevent her from getting pregnant so she wouldn’t
compete with me.
Ethan didn’t even ask me, instead, running me
off the road.
I lay in a pool of blood, begging him to save
our baby.
He said I was faking it to get sympathy.
By the time I reached the hospital, my baby
was gone.
<
I was barely alive.
The loss of my child broke me.
I looked at Ethan’s cold face.
He was the man I loved deeply, the man I
would have died for.
Countless times over the past ten years, I’d
been on the verge of telling the truth.
But I was afraid.
I was afraid he wouldn’t be able to handle the
truth.
He was alone; he needed a reason to live,
even if it was fueled by hate.
I had decided to die; my eyes held only
emptiness.
Noticing my state, Ethan opened his mouth to
speak.
But Olivia’s cries of “Ethan” stole his
attention.
His eyes turned cold.
“Don’t think you can get away with this!”
<
“When you get home, go to the basement!”
“If you ever hurt Olivia again, I’ll make you
suffer!”
I smiled sadly; tears streamed down my face.
He knew I’d been bullied.
I had severe claustrophobia.
My bullies would lock me in tiny spaces.
I would scream until I passed out from lack of
oxygen.
Ethan rescued me once.
He knelt, vowing never to let me be hurt
again.
Yet, for Olivia, he made me relive my
nightmares.
I watched him leave, silent.
Ethan, it’s over.
We’re done.
