Chapter 5
248words
Wilson knelt beside my bed, blood caked on his forehead. When he saw my eyes open, his bloodshot gaze lit up with desperate relief. He clutched me to his chest like a drowning man finding a lifeline.
"Melody, thank God. I thought—I thought—
I'm sorry I jumped to conclusions. You didn't hurt Luna. I forgot about the virus still in your system. I've given you the cure. How do you feel?"
I met his gaze, forcing down the agony still raging through my body, and replied with a blank face.
"Peachy. Your miracle drug worked wonders."
He exhaled sharply in relief, then launched into a rambling monologue.
"See this room? It's the wedding suite we designed together.
I've never let anyone else in here. For our wedding—we can still have it here, right?"
Before I could answer, he was showing me our wedding photos and the matching trinkets we'd picked out together, his voice thick with nostalgia.
I looked at them and felt nothing but revulsion.
He didn't notice—or chose to ignore—my reaction, continuing to hold the items before me, words tumbling out in an endless stream.
With a sudden movement, I grabbed the photo from his hands and hurled it across the room. It hit our wedding portrait with a satisfying crash.
Glass shattered everywhere, the destruction oddly beautiful.
He finally fell silent, shock and pain etched across his features. I started laughing and couldn't stop.
