Love Betrayed

By seven in the evening, Christian Reynolds, missing for six hours, finally showed up. He looked pale, a hint of guilt reflected in his eyes.

“Violeta, I’m sorry,” he rasped, his voice strained. “Emersyn… I couldn't just stand by and do nothing. I had to try and help.”

I swallowed the bitterness rising within me. “There are plenty of firefighters. Why did it have to be you?”

“She picked today to threaten to jump, insisting only you could save her. What was going through her mind?” I continued, feeling a swell of hurt. “Christian, I'm not oblivious.”

He fell silent for a long moment, holding my cold hand, his voice raw. “Violeta, in seven years, I’ve never asked anything of you. Just this once, I’m pleading with you not to spread this around. Don’t let it hurt Emersyn’s reputation. I’m worried she can't handle it.”

His sincere gaze gripped my heart with a suffocating ache. This wasn’t a request he should make of me; he should be apologizing.

A person’s instinct doesn’t mislead. He hadn’t considered the embarrassment he caused leaving me stranded at the wedding venue. He hadn't been concerned about my ending up in the hospital. All his thoughts were on Emersyn.

Tears fell like scattered pearls onto the white bed sheets, dotting them with dark spots. It took all my strength to whisper one word: “Okay.”

He relaxed visibly, then added, “When Emersyn found out about the wedding, she became destabilized. Let’s postpone the ceremony.”

“I need to be with her for treatment for now. Once she improves… maybe three months, just three months, and we can proceed, alright?” he suggested, his voice filled with caution.

I had waited seven years; surely three months shouldn’t matter. Yet observing his concern for someone else made even those three months feel unbearable.

The tiny life within me seemed to sense my turmoil and shifted slightly. I rested my hand on my abdomen, nurturing a six-week-old life—ours, yet distanced from him now.

Slowly, I withdrew my hand, my voice as calm and placid as a still pond. “Christian…”

“I may not have the best memory, but I recall when you handed me a love letter in the schoolyard at seventeen, so nervous you stumbled over your own feet.”

“I remember when you first held my hand, your palm sweaty, and you didn’t let go for three blocks.”

“I remember our college graduation day, when you promised to take care of me forever, vowed to make me the happiest bride.”

“All these years, you remembered I don’t eat onions or garlic, that I sip herbal tea during my period, all my little quirks… I always believed I mattered most to you.”

I met his gaze, tears suddenly streaming down: “But today, I don’t feel your love…”

Memories from the past seven years flooded my mind, and Christian’s eyes grew red. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and a tear slipped down.

“But Violeta, Emersyn needs me right now.”

The phrase “needs me” crushed my last glimmer of hope. Looking at him, I suddenly laughed through my tears: “Then go to her.”

He looked taken aback, as if not expecting those words. But in the end, he didn’t say anything and walked out of the hospital room.