Page 4
Story: The Cost of Forgetting Me
He was still restless when he returned to Clara’s place. He was grumbling to himself: “How dare she ghost me like this? She’s just avoiding divorce. Nora, I know what you’re afraid of. Playing dead? I didn’t think you had it in you.”
I hovered beside him, wearing a bitter smile. My greatest fear was losing our home and the marriage I had fought so hard to save. I’d given it my all, only for him to trample it.
Clara attempted to calm him. “Don’t get so worked up. Nora is probably mad about us. It’s just like when she pushed me down the stairs. I know she didn’t mean it. Maybe I should apologise to her…”
She pouted and curled into his arms. Landon grabbed her, still fuming. “Why should she be mad? Her mother told me she was dying. I’d be a fool if I believed that. She’d rather die than let me go.”
He became calm after venting his frustration.
He ran his fingers through his hair and began to plan something.
Clara tugged on his sleeve. “Let’s not dwell on this. It’s late. Why don’t you sleep in my bed tonight?”
Her cheeks flushed, and the invitation was clear.
I expected Landon to leap at it. He was prepared to divorce me, after all. But he paused, patted her head, and drew her hand away.
“I’m sorry, but I need to go home,” he said.
Clara bit her lips. “Do you not want me?”
He frowned. “Don’t take it like that. I just remembered something I gotta do.”
She couldn’t stop him.
Curious, I followed him back to our house, where the air remained sour from decay. He wandered through the rooms, eventually stopping at our bedside table, where a photo of us sat. It showed me clinging to his back and beaming with happiness.
He looked at it, as if recalling the past.
After a while, he slammed it down and snarled, “Dead? I know you too well. You just love me too much to die. This is just a stunt to pull me back, right?”
I laughed bitterly.
He sounded certain, but did he really know me?
Landon was my first real friend at work.
Raised by a single mother, I grew up small and poor, making me a prime target for bullies who mocked my size and fatherless home.
I hid my pain to reassure my mother, concentrating on school to lighten her load. By college, the bullying had subsided, but I remained quiet. It was my way of feeling safe.
I graduated smoothly and entered the workforce, but once again, my reserved nature made me a target for bullying.
I was assigned the most difficult tasks and held accountable for the mistakes of others.
That is when Landon stepped in. He was not imposing or well-connected, but he had a strong sense of justice. When I was unfairly blamed, he would march to the boss and correct the record.
After saving my job, he grinned and handed me a cupcake. “If anyone causes you trouble again, come to me. I’ll handle it.” His eyes were warm, and I fell hard for him.
I hovered beside him, wearing a bitter smile. My greatest fear was losing our home and the marriage I had fought so hard to save. I’d given it my all, only for him to trample it.
Clara attempted to calm him. “Don’t get so worked up. Nora is probably mad about us. It’s just like when she pushed me down the stairs. I know she didn’t mean it. Maybe I should apologise to her…”
She pouted and curled into his arms. Landon grabbed her, still fuming. “Why should she be mad? Her mother told me she was dying. I’d be a fool if I believed that. She’d rather die than let me go.”
He became calm after venting his frustration.
He ran his fingers through his hair and began to plan something.
Clara tugged on his sleeve. “Let’s not dwell on this. It’s late. Why don’t you sleep in my bed tonight?”
Her cheeks flushed, and the invitation was clear.
I expected Landon to leap at it. He was prepared to divorce me, after all. But he paused, patted her head, and drew her hand away.
“I’m sorry, but I need to go home,” he said.
Clara bit her lips. “Do you not want me?”
He frowned. “Don’t take it like that. I just remembered something I gotta do.”
She couldn’t stop him.
Curious, I followed him back to our house, where the air remained sour from decay. He wandered through the rooms, eventually stopping at our bedside table, where a photo of us sat. It showed me clinging to his back and beaming with happiness.
He looked at it, as if recalling the past.
After a while, he slammed it down and snarled, “Dead? I know you too well. You just love me too much to die. This is just a stunt to pull me back, right?”
I laughed bitterly.
He sounded certain, but did he really know me?
Landon was my first real friend at work.
Raised by a single mother, I grew up small and poor, making me a prime target for bullies who mocked my size and fatherless home.
I hid my pain to reassure my mother, concentrating on school to lighten her load. By college, the bullying had subsided, but I remained quiet. It was my way of feeling safe.
I graduated smoothly and entered the workforce, but once again, my reserved nature made me a target for bullying.
I was assigned the most difficult tasks and held accountable for the mistakes of others.
That is when Landon stepped in. He was not imposing or well-connected, but he had a strong sense of justice. When I was unfairly blamed, he would march to the boss and correct the record.
After saving my job, he grinned and handed me a cupcake. “If anyone causes you trouble again, come to me. I’ll handle it.” His eyes were warm, and I fell hard for him.