Episode Three
662 Words
I answer on the second ring.
“Silvia?”
It’s Nurse Amy. She worked with Mom at the hospital for twelve years. Her voice is shaking.
“Mrs Beckett didn’t make it,” she says. “She had a heart attack. Right there in the pew. We tried—”
The world tilts.
I drop the phone.
It hits the pavement and the screen cracks down the middle. A spiderweb of black lines splits my reflection in two.
Half of me is still in the wedding dress.
Half of me is already gone.
Mom.
She was laughing in the front row five minutes ago. She was crying happy tears. She told me this morning, “Today’s the best day of my life.”
And now she’s dead.
Because of him.
Because of them.
My knees hit the gravel. I don’t feel it.
The bouquet is still lying in the aisle. The guests are still inside, whispering. And Mom’s gone.
All I can hear is the buzzing in my ears.
The phone on the ground keeps ringing. Nurse Amy’s voice is muffled, distant: “Silvia? Silvia, are you there?”
I can’t answer.
I can’t even breathe.
-----
A car screeches to a stop beside me.
Tires on gravel. Door slamming.
“Silvia. Get in.”
The voice is low, familiar, and I haven’t heard it in three years.
I look up.
Lucas stands over me in a black jacket, face hard. His eyes aren’t pitying. They’re angry.
“If you stay here,” he says, “he wins.”
Lucas.
My ex.
The guy I left for Damien.
Rain starts to fall, cold against my face. The church doors open again behind me. I hear Courtney calling my name.
I look at Lucas, then at the open passenger door.
---
The car door slams shut behind me, and the sound feels final.
Rain hits the windshield in hard, fast lines. Lucas doesn’t turn on the engine right away. He just sits there, hands on the wheel, jaw tight. His knuckles are white.
I’m still in the dress. White lace is soaked through, sticking to my skin. The hoodie he threw at me is lying on my lap, untouched. I can’t make my hands move.
We pull away from the church.
Through the rear window I see people standing in the doorway, watching. Courtney is one of them. Her pale blue dress is a blur in the rain. She doesn’t run after us. She just stands there.
Good. Let her stand there.
Lucas drives fast, but smooth. He knows these streets. He always did. The city lights blur past, orange and red and useless. My phone is dead in my pocket. Mom’s number is the last thing on the screen.
I should say something. I should scream. I should thank him. I should tell him to pull over and let me out.
Nothing comes out.
The silence in the car is heavy. It’s the same silence that was between us the last time I saw him, three years ago, when he left a note on my door and didn’t say goodbye.
My throat burns.
“You didn’t have to come,” I say. My voice is hoarse, like I haven’t used it in days.
Lucas’s eyes flick to me in the rearview mirror, then back to the road.
“You didn’t think I’d come, did you?”
The question lands like a slap.
Because no. I didn’t.
I thought if I ever saw him again, it would be on my terms. Not like this. Not with my life shattered and his face the first thing I see when everything falls apart.
The car turns down a street I don’t recognize. The rain doesn’t let up.
---
Yoooooooo
Let's see what Lucas is up to
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