Chapter 20
738words
The bank had given me forty-eight hours to vacate the premises.
I sat on the floor of the attic, surrounded by dust motes dancing in the sliver of light coming through the window. It was the only room I hadn't packed yet. Or rather, the movers hadn't packed. I couldn't afford movers anymore.
I was looking for things to sell. My rookie cards. My first jersey. Anything that could buy me a plane ticket to Boston.
I shoved aside a box labeled Christmas Decorations and found an old, battered plastic bin tucked in the corner. It was labeled in Elena's neat handwriting: University Years - Minnesota.
I stared at it. I hadn't thought about Minnesota in years. That was where we met. That was where the accident happened.
I popped the lid open. A scent of lavender and old paper wafted out. Elena's scent.
Inside were textbooks, old notes, and a thick, leather-bound journal.
I picked up the journal. It felt heavy. I opened it randomly.
October 12th: Liam Sterling looked at me in biology today. He asked for a pen. I think I forgot how to breathe.
I blinked. She had noticed me back then? I thought she was just the quiet nerd I hired to tutor me so I wouldn't fail anatomy.
I flipped forward. The dates got closer to The Night. December 24th. The night of the blizzard. The night my car slid off the road into the ravine, and I shattered my leg. The night I almost froze to death until an "angel" found me, dragged me to a cabin, and kept me warm.
Sophia had always told me it was her. She said she was driving behind me, saw the crash, and saved me. That was why I owed her. That was why I felt guilty leaving her. She was my savior.
I turned to the entry for December 25th.
The handwriting was shaky, frantic.
“I found him. Oh my god, I found him.”
I frowned. I read on.
“I was walking back from the library when I saw the tracks. The car was upside down. He was unconscious. The snow was so deep. I didn't think I could pull him out. He's so heavy. My shoulder felt like it popped, but I couldn't let go. I dragged him for miles. The cabin was freezing. I had to cut his pant leg open to stop the bleeding. I used my favorite blue scarf as a tourniquet. I held him all night to share body heat. He kept mumbling 'Sophia' in his sleep. Even when I was saving his life, he was dreaming of her. But it doesn't matter. He's alive. I saved him.”
My blood froze in my veins.
My favorite blue scarf.
I dropped the journal and frantically dug through the box. At the very bottom, wrapped in tissue paper, was a scarf.
It was wool. Knit by hand. Dark blue. And it was stained with old, brown, rusted blood.
My blood.
I held the scarf with shaking hands. A memory, sharp and sudden, pierced through the fog of my concussion from that night.
I remembered the cold. I remembered the pain. And I remembered a voice. Not Sophia's high-pitched panic. A low, soothing voice.
“Stay with me, Liam. I've got you. I won't let go.”
It was Elena's voice.
Sophia hadn't saved me. Sophia had arrived at the hospital the next morning, saw the opportunity, and claimed the credit. Elena had stayed silent. She had let me believe the lie because she loved me enough to just be happy I was alive.
"No," I whispered, clutching the bloody scarf to my chest. "No, no, no."
I looked around the empty attic.
The woman who dragged me through a blizzard. The woman who ruined her shoulder to save my leg. The woman who kept me warm while I called out another woman's name.
I had made her a servant. I had cheated on her with the fraud who stole her glory. I had killed her child.
A scream tore out of my throat, raw and animalistic.
"ELENA!"
I curled up on the dusty floor, holding the scarf, rocking back and forth. The weight of my sins finally crushed me. I wasn't just a bad husband. I was a monster.
And the worst part? The savior I had been worshipping for ten years was the very woman I had just destroyed.
