The pain in my palm was unbearable, but I couldn’t stop. I was the one facing death.
Perhaps Althea heard us arguing because her soft voice came through the phone again.
“Darius, you should go back. I don’t want Vera to be upset,” she said gently.
“It’s fine,” Darius replied, “She won’t be upset. I’ll leave after you fall asleep.”
I let out a numb, bitter laugh.
“Darius, don’t ever come back,” I said, my voice breaking.
After hanging up the phone, I removed the diamond ring from my finger. It seemed like a harsh, jagged stone at that moment, hurting my eyes.
The clock was about to strike midnight.
“I’m ready,” I said to the system, my voice barely a whisper. “Take me away.”
“Host, please try a little harder,” the system urged. “I can buy you some time. Go find him and bring him back.”
But that hope faded when I saw Althea's post on social media.
She had written, [I casually mentioned it and Darius drove over thirty kilometers to buy me a mango cake.]
Even through the screen, Darius's comment oozed affection. [Fool, as long as you like it, no distance is too far for me.]
Darius was allergic to mangoes and cream. Even the smell made him uncomfortable, so I never brought them into our home despite how much I craved them. My past care and consideration now seemed like a cruel joke.
I took a selfie and posted it on social media with the caption, [Goodbye to those who loved me.]
The clock’s hand finally passed midnight.
I instructed the system to do its work, slipped into my favorite dress and lay quietly on the bed. We prepared the bridal chamber two years ago.
The light from the ceiling cast soft patterns over me. I could feel my life slowly slipping away, like sinking into the unknown. I heard my breathing, the wind, the water and the cicadas chirping.
Everything seemed to be growing, aging, dying and being reborn at an astonishing speed.
Then I heard a familiar knock on the door, which only Darius had been used to doing.
He had forgotten his keys again. But I could no longer get up.
My phone rang repeatedly, but I had no strength to answer it. Eventually, he opened the door.
I heard his hurried footsteps rushing into the bedroom.
He said, "Vera, why didn’t you answer my calls? What did you mean by that post?”
When I didn’t respond, his breathing grew heavier.
He hated it when I stayed silent during arguments.
I thought he had surely come closer to find out what was happening.