After being discharged from the hospital, I returned to the house I shared with Cornelius, a place filled with so many memories and promises, now cold and empty, devoid of any warmth.
My studio had been destroyed, paint splattered everywhere in a blinding mess.
I knew what kind of emotion Cornelius must have had when he ruined this place. He hated me now.
I picked up a paintbrush, knowing I would never be able to hold one again in my life.
I set everything in this place on fire, burning it all to the ground.
I even thought about burning myself with it.
But I couldn't. My remaining days could only be used to atone for my sins.
"Ma'am, Mr. Gentry is handling the funeral arrangements and won't be back for now."
"They... where are they?"
I heard my voice, weak and hoarse, yet still carrying a glimmer of hope.
"Ma'am, to put it bluntly, Mr. Gentry... probably doesn't want you at the funeral."
A bitterness spread in my heart.
After finding out the location of the funeral, I just stood far away and watched.
I saw Cornelius kneeling before his parents' graves, his broken and disheveled figure.
The parents buried beneath the gravestone were the ones I had called "mom" and "dad" for two years after marrying Cornelius.
And I had no right to be part of this farewell ritual.
I was afraid of the way Cornelius would look at me, afraid he'd say:
"Why wasn't it you who died?"
"Why should my parents have to bear the consequences of your choices?"
My choices had turned all the beautiful things we once had into dust.
The early winter wind was cold. Every night I waited outside our door until midnight, hoping to see Cornelius's figure.
I sat on the steps, numb from the cold, until finally, I saw the familiar car.
The driver helped an unconscious Cornelius out and said to me:
"Ma'am, Mr. Gentry drank too much, we couldn't stop him."
After helping him into the room, I wanted to make him some sobering soup, but he pressed me down onto the bed.
He used all his strength, almost crushing my shoulder.
"Carlee, why wasn't it you who died?"
He grabbed my neck, his hatred cutting through me like a thousand blades.
I reached out to touch his thin face. His chin was covered with stubble.
He used to love being spoiled, asking me to shave it for him.
I choked up as I gently touched his face.
"Cornelius, more than anyone, I wish I had been the one to die..."
But you've already lost your parents. How could I leave you?
Cornelius suddenly bent over, biting me. Every inch of skin he had devoured left behind deep, red marks.
It hurt, but I knew it couldn't compare to the pain in his heart.
The entire night, again and again, I never resisted.
I could only repay him with everything I had.
A week ago, when I woke up in the hospital, every bone in my body ached.
Cornelius sat by the bed, looking tired and dazed.
I cried as I propped myself up and hugged him. "Cornelius, I had a nightmare..."
I held him tightly, but he didn't respond.
A memory broke into my mind.
Slowly, fear crept over my entire body.
"You didn't have a nightmare."
Cornelius's voice, cold and void of any warmth, reached my ears.
He slowly pushed my arm off his, his fingers as cold as his voice.
Then, I saw his eyes looking at me.
He had never looked at me this way before, filled with endless hatred and helplessness.
"Carlee, my parents are dead."
My heart felt like it was suddenly gripped by something, followed by a wave of intense pain.
Dead...?
I couldn't control my trembling hands, reaching out to hold Cornelius Gentry's hand.
I feared that if I didn't grasp onto something, I would fall into an endless abyss.
But Cornelius slowly pried my fingers apart, like he was touching something repulsive.
He said:
"Why didn't you die with them?
"Why should my parents have to bear the consequences of your choices?"
He shouted, his eyes burning with anger.
I stared at him, letting the overwhelming pain consume me, too afraid to take a single step toward him.
Why… why wasn't it me?
I curled up, my throat tight, tears silently soaking my face.
Why am I still alive?
It was my insistence on going abroad to pursue my art that led to the accident when Cornelius Gentry's parents were driving me to the airport. I was the only one who survived.
This never should have happened!
!
I am the cause of all of this!
