Chapter 7
The plane landed ten hours later. After eight years away, I was back in my hometown and my heart had mixed feelings. Everything looked the same–the familiar streets, the familiar air. But Mom was no longer here, except as a small urn of ashes.
I contacted the cemetery and arranged her burial at a beautiful spot in the cemetery and set her favorite tulips by her gravestone. Looking at the familiar smiling face on the tombstone, my tears slowly slid
down.
“Mom, I am so sorry. I was too stupid and loved the wrong person. I promise to push myself to forget the past and stay close to you.”
Mark wasn’t wrong about one thing–I was starved for love. My parents‘ relationship was strained and Mom’s health was always fragile. Just the smallest gesture from Mark
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had made me cling to him as if he were my lifeline. He fooled both Mom and me with his carefully crafted lies and once he was certain I couldn’t leave, he revealed his true self, trampling on my love and devotion.
But he forgot that Love must run out one day and people must leave one day.
I had kept everything inside to protect Mom, acting like life was fine so she wouldn’t worry. But now, I had no reason to stay quiet. I sat at her grave, sharing everything from the last few days, the bitterness of these past years. Maybe it was the weight of all those years, or maybe there was just too much to say–I kept talking until the sun had set and the moon was casting light over me. Finally, I said a tearful goodbye, leaving her side.
Returning to the old house was bittersweet. Dust covered everything, but it was still livable. I went to the supermarket to buy a few daily necessities. I thought I would lose sleep, but I didn’t expect to have a rare
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good night’s sleep. There were no late–night calls to make Mark’s hangover soup, no
early mornings ironing his shirts or making breakfast.
Just quiet peace, the start of a life I could call my own.
I didn’t have to waste another moment of
my life on endless housework or on caring
for someone who didn’t deserve it.
It was the sound of birdsong in the morning that woke me. I finally decided to clean up the room. As I reached for my phone, I saw a flood of messages filling my screen. All of them were from Mark, but
sent from different numbers.
Curiosity got the best of me and I began to
read them.
Mark: [Rachel, where have you gone? Why aren’t you coming home again? Where did you put the couple of slippers you bought earlier? Why can’t I find them?]
I didn’t need any new slippers. The ones at
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home were enough. It was obvious what was going on–he was looking for them because he had probably brought Chloe home.
Mark: [You’ve been causing trouble lately. Don’t you want to get married? You’re already this old–who else would want you? There are plenty of people who would like to marry me. I will get a new wife if you don’t show up soon!]
He had already given the wedding house to Chloe. Even if I stayed, I was certain he would switch her in as the bride on the wedding day, thinking I’d be an embarrassment.
Then, I read the message that made my heart stop.
Mark: [Did your mom really pass away?
This cannot be true. The doctor said there
was still a chance for recovery if she got the right treatment.]
That sentence felt like a knife stabbing
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deep into my chest.
I couldn’t stop myself from thinking–if Mark had not cut off my credit card that day. If he had not delayed everything for so long, maybe my mom would still be here.
It was Mark and I–she died because of us.
My hands trembled as I gripped the phone. I sank to the floor, holding my mother’s framed photo to my chest, sobbing in despair. I didn’t know how long I stayed there, crying until my body was too weak even to move when I heard a knock at the
door.
I staggered to my feet, wiping my eyes. When I opened the door, I saw Mark standing there, looking exhausted, like he had hurriedly rushed over. His clothes. were disheveled and his face was weary.
“Rachel, why did you run off here without saying anything? Don’t you want to get married anymore…?”
His reproachful words faltered when he
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saw my swollen eyes, still red from crying. His gaze shifted to the photo of my mom on the wall behind me.
“I really didn’t know your mom passed away.”
He paused, clearly struggling to hide his guilt. “No wonder you’ve seemed like a different person these past few days.”
“I’ve been really busy with work and I didn’t have time to help you with your mom’s funeral. I’ll send you some money now. After you take care of everything, you can come back, okay? We can still get married in a few years.”
I didn’t know when Mark had learned of my mother’s death. What I did know was that he was still the same–shameless and
selfish.
First, he belittled me. Then he tried to bribe me with a little money, thinking it would fix everything. He had been using the same tired tactics for eight years. I once
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was blind to his manipulations, thinking he was the answer to all my problems. But not
anymore.
Now, I didn’t even want to say a word to him.
“We’ve broken up,” I said, my voice firm. “So, get out of my house now, or I’ll call the police.”
Mark didn’t expect me to speak to him like this. He froze for a moment, then panic set in.
“What are you talking about? When did we break up? We’re getting married, remember?”
I laughed bitterly through my tears, my heart heavy with rage. He had killed my mother and he still believed I would go through with marrying him.
“Do you really not remember? That was the day you pushed me out of the car and let my mom die. The day you cut off my credit card while you bought a house for Chloe.”
