10
I stared at him in disbelief. “Clive, that’s Darren! He’s the director’s son–he used to be our friend!”
“So what?” He smirked. “If it means getting back at you, I wouldn’t mind turning that whole orphanage upsi down. One phone call from me, and the authorities will be all over the place, questioning paperwork, demanding documents, running inspections. Tell me, do you think Darren and the director will be okay after that?”
C
Over the years, the director had taken in many undocumented children, doing everything he could to help them get legal status. He always said he couldn’t just let them starve, running himself ragged to find ways to register
them.
“If you don’t believe me, go ahead and test me,” Clive challenged me.
I was terrified. I couldn’t afford to gamble with their lives. Looking at him, the madness in his eyes, I knew–I had already lost.
Fine Marriage it is
10:30 AM
Trapped in a Marriage Fueled by Revenge
Fine. Marriage it is.
C
His revenge lasted for years, so long that even I grew tired of it. So long that when he finally wanted to reconcile, I hesitated. And that hesitation only fueled his rage, leading to more cruelty from him and harsher resistance from
me.
In the end, we were both battered and broken, tangled together in a mess of pain and pride–neither of us willing
to back down.
When I opened my eyes, I didn’t speak. Instead, I just stared at his hand, tightly gripping mine.
The diamond ring still gleamed, but my fingers had grown so thin it barely fit anymore.
“Clive…”
The moment I said his name, he looked up, his expression desperate, almost hopeful. “Courtney, I’m here… What do you want to say? Whatever it is, I promise I’ll do it.”
I took a shaky breath. “I… want a divorce.”
His entire body froze, as if he had been turned to stone. For a long moment, he just stared at me, unmoving. “A divorce? Why?” His voice cracked. “I know now–I misunderstood you. We can fix this, Courtney. Let’s start
over, okay?”
Tears streamed down his face as he held my hand tightly, refusing to let go.
But I gasped at the pain and instinctively tried to pull away. The sudden movement jolted him back to reality, and he finally loosened his grip. The ring also slipped off my finger and landed on the bed with a soft clink.
“I… I don’t want your surname on my gravestone,” I added.
But in the end, he still refused to grant me a divorce. Yet, I no longer had the strength to fight him on it.
I had already made arrangements with Darren–when I died, I wanted my ashes scattered at sea. I wanted to go somewhere far away.
A few days later, when I started feeling a little better, I asked Clive to go home and find an old photograph for me.
At first, he refused. But when I told him it was a childhood picture of us together, he stared at me for a long time
before finally agreeing.
As soon as he left, I turned to Darren and begged him to take me to see the ocean. He refused outright, his
expression dark and serious.
“I just want to see where I’ll be staying,” I said with a small smile. “I want to see what it looks like.”
That was all it took to break him. Tears welled up in his eyes before spilling over in a silent, helpless sob.
Afterward, he turned and ran out of the room.
Not long after, he came back. He had already spoken to the doctors and made the arrangements. Doctors said I could go–but for just a few hours.
It was time to say goodbye.
In the car, an old song from our childhood played softly through the speakers. I hummed along, only then
realizing–Clive and I had never once gone on a trip like this together.
C
When we reached the lighthouse, Darren carefully wrapped a blanket around me before wheeling me closer.
He pointed to the towering structure. “I picked this lighthouse for you. Remember it, okay? If you ever get the chance, swim back and visit me.”
I pulled the blanket tighter around myself and whispered, “Okay.”
Just then, his phone rang, and he stepped away to answer it.
I knew who it was. Clive must have realized–there was no photo at home.
I glanced down at the worn, yellowed photograph in my hands. Then, without hesitation, I let go.
The picture fluttered through the air, caught in the wind, drifting higher and higher before disappearing.