THE BRIDE HE BURIED

TWIST OF FATE

I sat staring into space, my hair tousled as the wind blew it in different directions.

It felt so unreal to be this scared, but I didn't even know what reality was anymore.

The cold bit into my body despite my coat, but I didn't flinch—just sat watching Brenda pace up and down on her phone, cursing and swearing loudly.

“No reply,” she said to me, and I nodded.

It was almost time for lectures. It didn't look like I could change fate.

I would meet him and probably fall in love with him again. I had to take my chances.

Brenda patted my arm understandingly, and I smiled.

We had been through a lot today.

My stomach growled, and I realized too late that I hadn't eaten all day.

I searched through my bag, and all I came up with was a dollar.

Frustration rushed through my mind as I shut my eyes in agony.

I really needed that job.

We walked through the hallway into our class.

It felt weird sitting in the same class, knowing that I had lived and been there already for a while—six months.

The shooting would have happened after my final exams, so I could know what questions I would have to write, I thought to myself bitterly.

I sat in my seat, as I always did, staring intently at the door.

“Hey, calm down,” Brenda said with raised brows.

I nodded but couldn't tear my eyes away from the door.

He was going to walk in through that door with the polka-dotted shirt he had worn that very first day and say something about us communicating properly.

Then our eyes would meet, and bam, we were in love.

I began to hear heavy footsteps coming from the hallway… that would be him.

I checked the time. 12:28.

It was him—I could feel it.

I felt tension rise as my temperature flew high, my breathing almost coming in gasps.

Don’t fall for him, don’t fall for him, I screamed again and again in my mind as a shadow cast across the door and in walked him…

My eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

Who the hell was this?

This man looked old enough to be my father—or even older.

This wasn't Eric.

Brenda gave me that “uhmm, that your man, babe?” look and I shook my head.

That wasn't Eric… at least not the Eric I knew.

Was this fate again?

I felt my ass glued to the chair, my hand squeezing the pen with so much pressure it almost snapped.

I waited for him to introduce himself.

Mr. John Thompson.

A wave of relief washed over me as I shut my eyes in relief.

My mind relaxed, but annoyingly, I felt a little disappointed.

I shook my head, trying to get rid of the stupid thought that hovered in my head.

I had wanted to see him.

To see his face… those deep-set green eyes, that set jawline, and those lips… that sinful body part of his that drove me crazy… making me beg for more and playing a puppet for him.

Those ripped abs under his loose polos that he often wore… I wanted to really see him.

I was lost in thought, I didn't hear the old man say he would be standing in for Mr. Eric, who had had an emergency.

I forced my mind to focus on the class.

This twist of fate hadn't happened in my former life.

There seemed to be a different pattern I didn't understand, but I was somewhat glad it had chosen this path.

I could meet up with Brenda's mom by tomorrow and see if there was a solution to all of this.

I smiled, setting my heart at ease, and began to enjoy the lesson, feeling a heavy weight being lifted from my chest.

---

My heart began to drum again when I walked into the hospital.

I dreaded the sight I was going to see—my mother, surrounded with all those syringes and machines.

She didn't deserve it… she was already suffering too much to add this.

That was why I focused in school… why I had even allowed Eric to take my virginity.

He had promised to speak to his friend at the Martel Corporation to hire me immediately after my exams so I could start making money.

I had been so sure I could work us out of poverty.

But it looked like that path was going to cost my life.

I was directed to the doctor's office, and he looked elated to see me.

“We needed blood to proceed with the treatment, and a generous donor volunteered to give his,” he said almost cheerfully. There was a shift in his eyes.

“What's wrong, doctor?” I asked.

“Well, the young man was in perfect condition, but on his way out of the hospital, he suddenly collapsed. We couldn't find anything wrong with him… maybe you could check him out after you see your mother,” he said.

I nodded as he directed me to my mother's ward.

My shoulders drooped as I looked at the fragile figure lying motionlessly on the hospital bed.

I placed my hand on her forehead—she wasn't running a temperature.

I didn't want to wake her up, so I slowly left to check who the generous young man was.

His ward smelled just like my mom’s—antiseptic and pills.

He lay with his back to me.

I knocked softly on the door and he moved.

He slowly turned to face me and I felt my soul leave my body.

“Hi,” he said, but my mouth was so dry I couldn't speak.

I felt my temperature rise, my nose flared, and the floor wobbled under my feet.

Darkness cascaded over my eyes like a thick black blanket, and as I lost consciousness, the only thought that came to my mind was:

“It’s him.”