, CORNELL
1044 Words
What in God's name have I done?
Acid boils in my stomach, pain jabbing the
backs of my eyes. The world is lacking in
all sound as I turn in several directions,
searching for Valentine. There is no sign of
her. She has vanished into the landscape,
taking all of the color and sound along
with her. My breaths are loud in my ears,
dizziness rising up and causing me to
pitch sideways, thanks to memories of her
stricken expression.
What did I just do?
Jesus, how could I say those things to her?
She was sent to me as a sacrifice. A virgin
offering. It brought her into mny life, yes,
but she never should have been put in that
position. As far as she knew, I was an evil
bastard before we met. What if I'd been the
kind of man who hurts women? The fact
that she was put in potential danger is
unacceptable. She's eighteen, for
godsakes. Her family is supposed to
protect her, not use her for their own
advantage.
And I...I blarned her.
Lashed out in anger and said truly mean
things that I didn’t mean in an attempt to
disguise my own pain.
Damn me. I called her a liar, an
opportunist. I pushed her away.
Now I’m going to pay for it, aren’t I?
I’ve hurt the sweetest, gentlest girl in the
world. The girl who loved me and fought to
get through to me, even when I was a
bitter shell of a human.
No. No, please. I can’t have lost her.
A hole forms in mny stomach and grows
rapidly larger as I stumble to the
limousine and brace my hands on the roof,
trying to think. My driver stands a few feet
away, calling my name, but his voice
sounds like it’s coming from the inside of
a tunnel. Freezing cold sweat beads on my
face and rolls downward, soaking into my
collar. What if she’s in danger? What if I
find her, beg her forgiveness, but the hurt
I inflicted is too great for her to love me
anymore?
My knees almost give way, my mouth
going bone dry.
Focus.
Focus.
I have to find her.
I'm burning so hot with grief that it takes
me a moment to realize where we are. I
own several of the high rises on this street
does Valentine live in one of these? No. No,
thinking back to the conversation, didn't
she say I postponed the eviction of her
family? I've only done that once in my
career in real estate.
"Carter Avenue,"I bark at my driver,
throwing myself into the back seat. "The
tenements."
As soon as the vehicle starts moving, I call
the building manager and demand the
details of Valentine's family. Who are they?
What ages? How many of them? What is
the apartrnent number? And as I find out
more about the Hellingtons, the lesson Valentine taught me becomes painfully obvious.
I was going to throw these people out on
the street without knowing a single thing
about them. I could have made my future
wife homeless and never batted an eyelash
about it. These tenants of mine are people.
People who make huge mistakes, sure, but
If Valentine loves them, they can’t be all bad.
As a fellow human being, I owe them a
chance. I’ve owed a lot of people a chance
they never got.
My head falls back against the seat, eyes
Gritty and raw.
And I start to pray.
Please God, if you let me have her back, I
won’t forget the lessons she taught me. I’ll
be a better person. I’ll be more like her.
Please.
When I lift my head again, we are turning
down Carter Avenue and I see the block
through fresh eyes. It’s not just a low-rent
neighborhood, it’s the place where Valentine
lives. Is this where I will find her?
Frantically, I search the street for some
sign of her, hoping like hell she ran home
instead of going somewhere I’ll never
pinpoint. I need to hold her in my arms so
badly, they’re shaking, an apology
jammed in my throat.
My driver pulls over and I waste no time
getting out, marching straight into the
building where Valentine lives and scaling the
stairs to her apartment. Just knowing she
walks th ese halls makes me miss her so
much, I’m all but hunched over by the
time I bang on the door.
A woman answers, looking terrified.
“Oh, Lord, is the eviction happening now?
We weren’t notified—”
“No.” I brace a hand on the doorjamb. “
You’re not being evicted. You’re never
paying me rent again. Just help me find your daughter.”
The color drains from her face. "Is she
lost? Last time I spoke to her, she was
leaving for Paris. With you. She said… "
"What?"
Valentine's mother only shakes her head,
shame dancing across her features.
"I know about the plan to trade leniency
for her virginity. She told me."
"I'm sorry," she whispers. "I regretted my
decision as soon as she left, but it was too
late. I should never have sent her to do
that."
"No, you shouldn't have," When tears fill
her eyes, I soften my harsh tone and it's
all Valentine's influence. She's turned me
human, hasn't she? "But it brought her
into my life," I say gruffly, my heart
squeezing. "I could never be angry about
that. She's my angel. She's everything to me.”
The woman nods, as if she knows exactly
how special her daughter is. “When she
called me to tell me about Paris, she told
me the plan was off. That she’d given
herself to you freely because…she loves
you.”
A pitiful sound leaves me and I nearly rip
off the doorjamb. The plan was off. She’d
taken her one bargaining tool and given it
to me out of trust, affection, and I turned
on her at the first opportunity. God, I don’t
deserve her, do I? “I love her, too. I love
her so much it hurts. But we argued and..
and I just need your help bringing her back
to me. Please. Where would she go?”
- Writer
