Thirteen years with Kenneth, and we had never once used those.

"They don't feel good. I don't like them."

So every time, I was the one swallowing the pill afterward.

Thirteen years, and we'd only had one accident.

That child, he didn't keep.

I didn't even know whether the fact that it never happened again meant something was wrong with my body or the pills just worked that well.

"We don't have any in the house."

My teeth were clenched when I said it, and I couldn't stop my body from trembling.

"Then go out and buy some."

"She's pregnant now. It's inconvenient without them."

My fingers curled into fists inside my sleeves. I looked up at him, disbelief crawling through me.

"Kenneth, do you have any idea how hard it's raining out there?"

Only then did he turn toward the window. In the pitch-black night, rain hammered the glass like gravel.

"Drive."

He pressed the car keys into my palm. "Nobody's asking you to walk in the rain. Stop being dramatic."

I stood there. The keys burned against my skin.

I took one deep breath, and then I walked out the door.

With Kenneth, I was obedient most of the time.

For the light he'd given me when I was sixteen. For the thirteen years we'd clung to each other with no one else in the world.

I used to believe I owed him a debt bigger than the sky itself.

That was why I turned down every job offer after college and poured everything I had into helping him gain a foothold in the business world.

But that debt should be paid in full by now.

And the love should be done.

"I'll take these."

I grabbed a random assortment at the pharmacy, shoved them into a bag, and stuffed it away.

"Miss, do you have a fever? You're sweating, and your color doesn't look right..."

I licked my cracked lips, shook my head, scanned the code to pay, and turned to leave.

I didn't make it out of the pharmacy before my legs buckled.

The next second, I was on the floor.

"Miss! Miss!"

I felt myself sinking into darkness, drifting in and out of fragments and half-formed dreams.

In the dream, it was me and Kenneth at sixteen.

A past I could never return to.

My eyes snapped open. White ceiling. An IV bag hanging above me.

"Betty, you're awake?"

It was Victor, the same kid who'd tried to warn me before.

Even knowing Kenneth couldn't possibly be there, I still couldn't stop myself from scanning the room.

He wasn't.

"Kenneth... he had something to take care of."

"He said tomorrow. Come back tomorrow."