Chapter 3
Late one night, I received an email invitation to a gala. The sender was Serena Nolan. I almost deleted it. But curiosity gnawed at me. What was she up to?
I went to the gala.
here she was, on stage, in a stunning gown, standing beside my so–called husband. Her eyes met mine across the crowded room. I smiled, a bittersweet acknowledgement of defeat. For a moment, I wanted to storm the stage, flip over their table, and demand to know why Ethan had ignored my calls.
Instead, I turned and walked out, pulling out my phone.
Ethan answered.
Silence.
For an eternity, there was only silence.
Finally, his voice, cold and distant, broke the silence. “Grace? What do you want? I’m busy.”
He sounded like I was a telemarketer, an unwelcome interruption.
“Ethan,” I whispered, my heart pounding, “Do you still hate me?”
I could almost see him, his brow furrowed, his face a mask of annoyance, searching for the right words to dismiss me.
“That’s all in the past, Grace. Let it go.”
Let it go? How could I?
His curse had taken root, a seed of darkness growing within me.
“Ethan, if I had been the one who saved you that day, would you still treat me like this? Would you…”
He cut me off, his voice sharp with impatience. “It wasn’t you, Grace. You wouldn’t do
13.11 Fr, 13
something like that. You’re too cold–hearted to save someone who had no use to you.”
And then, he hung up.
I had tried, over the years, to tell him the truth, but he never believed me. That day, at the lake, I had risked my life to save him. I had spent two days in the ICU, but he still refused to
believe my story.
Tears streamed down my face. This life, this marriage, was a prison with no escape.
I walked away, leaving the gala behind, the echoes of laughter and music fading into the
night.
That night, I booked a flight to Hawaii. It was the place Abby had always wanted to visit.
“Mommy, let’s go to Hawaii! It’s so cold here,” she had pleaded, her voice sweet and childish.
“How about we go during your school break?” I had said, lifting her backpack onto her
shoulders.
“Promise? Pinky swear?” She had held out her pinky, her eyes shining with excitement.
But she never got to go.
Now, I didn’t know where she was. Was heaven cold? Would she cry? Did she have her
favorite dress?
I lay in bed, sleepless, my heart a heavy weight in my chest.
I was a sinner. I had to atone.
I called Ethan again, my voice a broken whisper. “Ethan, I’m sorry. I never
die. I’m so sorry.”
Meant for her to
But all I heard was the sound of a woman’s moans, a cruel reminder of my own emptiness.
It didn’t matter anymore. There was no future, no hope.
7
