Page 2
Story: The Cost of Forgetting Me
Landon remained with Clara after her IV treatment and drove her home.
She clung to his arm, unwilling to let go, and he was in no hurry to leave.
“Landon,” she said, her voice fragile, “I’ve been so low lately; when I feel better, can we go somewhere?”
“Of course,” he replied eagerly.
Clara’s family had fallen on hard times after her father’s business failed, transforming her from a spoilt heiress into a struggling nobody.
Landon understood her pain, especially since she complained about constant aches. He wanted to be her protector.
“Where do you want to go?” he enquired. “Name the place, and I’ll make it happen. I can take care of you now.”
Clara’s eyes sparkled. “Thank you. You’re so nice.”
I watched them with a bitter smile on my face.
Landon was always too busy for me. We never went on a honeymoon, and in five years of marriage, he rarely made time for a simple date.
I never complained, playing the dutiful wife and meeting all of his needs. His ignoring was all I got.
I tried to rekindle his affection with new makeup and fashionable clothes, but it was futile. Clara appeared, and I vanished from his world.
When he chose her over me, I would argue with him. He’d either respond silently or call me childish.
Alive, I couldn’t change it. I was still powerless, teetering on the brink of death.
Landon stayed at her place for the night. They did not share a bed, but their growing intimacy was undeniable.
The next day, I followed him to his office.
Instead of concentrating on his demanding job, he was on the phone, arranging first-class flights and luxury hotels for a trip with Clara. He had no idea that I was fighting for my life. It was as though I didn’t exist.
While my mother wept at my bedside, Landon was having a dream with another woman. They visited trendy cities, sampled local cuisine, and took stunning photographs.
He kept things proper by booking separate rooms. He treated her with the utmost care. Clara exuded joy, but I felt no jealousy.
I knew their happiness would not last. Landon never appreciated what he had. He had no idea how to hold onto joy.
A month later, their adventure came to an end.
Landon returned home weary. He opened the door to reveal a bleak scene: rotting food on the table and a deep stain on the floor.
The stench hit him, and his face contorted with disgust. He picked up his phone and dialled my number. My phone, which had died on the couch, did not answer.
He called again and again. By the fourth attempt, he was shouting into my voicemail. “If you want a divorce, just say so. Stop these stupid games. This place is a wreck. Come back, and we’ll end this now.”
Landon received only a cold beep from his voicemail.
He seethed for a while. Then he put his phone away and stormed back to Clara’s house.
After a month of travelling with her, he appeared exhausted. When he mentioned being hungry, she replied, “I’ll order takeaway. What do you feel like?”
She clung to his arm, unwilling to let go, and he was in no hurry to leave.
“Landon,” she said, her voice fragile, “I’ve been so low lately; when I feel better, can we go somewhere?”
“Of course,” he replied eagerly.
Clara’s family had fallen on hard times after her father’s business failed, transforming her from a spoilt heiress into a struggling nobody.
Landon understood her pain, especially since she complained about constant aches. He wanted to be her protector.
“Where do you want to go?” he enquired. “Name the place, and I’ll make it happen. I can take care of you now.”
Clara’s eyes sparkled. “Thank you. You’re so nice.”
I watched them with a bitter smile on my face.
Landon was always too busy for me. We never went on a honeymoon, and in five years of marriage, he rarely made time for a simple date.
I never complained, playing the dutiful wife and meeting all of his needs. His ignoring was all I got.
I tried to rekindle his affection with new makeup and fashionable clothes, but it was futile. Clara appeared, and I vanished from his world.
When he chose her over me, I would argue with him. He’d either respond silently or call me childish.
Alive, I couldn’t change it. I was still powerless, teetering on the brink of death.
Landon stayed at her place for the night. They did not share a bed, but their growing intimacy was undeniable.
The next day, I followed him to his office.
Instead of concentrating on his demanding job, he was on the phone, arranging first-class flights and luxury hotels for a trip with Clara. He had no idea that I was fighting for my life. It was as though I didn’t exist.
While my mother wept at my bedside, Landon was having a dream with another woman. They visited trendy cities, sampled local cuisine, and took stunning photographs.
He kept things proper by booking separate rooms. He treated her with the utmost care. Clara exuded joy, but I felt no jealousy.
I knew their happiness would not last. Landon never appreciated what he had. He had no idea how to hold onto joy.
A month later, their adventure came to an end.
Landon returned home weary. He opened the door to reveal a bleak scene: rotting food on the table and a deep stain on the floor.
The stench hit him, and his face contorted with disgust. He picked up his phone and dialled my number. My phone, which had died on the couch, did not answer.
He called again and again. By the fourth attempt, he was shouting into my voicemail. “If you want a divorce, just say so. Stop these stupid games. This place is a wreck. Come back, and we’ll end this now.”
Landon received only a cold beep from his voicemail.
He seethed for a while. Then he put his phone away and stormed back to Clara’s house.
After a month of travelling with her, he appeared exhausted. When he mentioned being hungry, she replied, “I’ll order takeaway. What do you feel like?”