Chapter 4
390 Words
Delilah landed on top of me, using my body as a cushion.
My back slammed into the cold tile with brutal impact.
As I struggled to sit up, I spotted him–Nathan, walking in with a bag of takeout.
His eyes immediately locked on Delilah, who was curled up on the floor, clutching her stomach in
pain.
His entire expression shifted in a flash.
The food hit the ground with a thud.
“Delilah! Baby, are you okay? Where does it hurt? I’m here, I’ve got you,
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He dropped to his knees beside her, touching her like she was made of porcelain.
Then he looked up.
Saw me.
Lying there, just feet away.
His eyes narrowed into something dangerous.
“Claire?” he hissed. “What the hell are you doing here?”
“You knew about her, didn’t you? You’ve been following me!”
“You pushed her, didn’t you? You’re trying to kill our baby!”
Terror consumed me.
And through it all–through the pain, the degradation–I heard his voice again.
The man who once whispered so gently in my ear: “Claire, you’re safe with me. I’ll never let you
lose. Never.”
What a lie.
What a monstrous, beautiful lie.
By the time dawn broke, it was over.
They zipped up their jackets with bored, bitter expressions.
“Damn,” the bald one sneered, spitting on the ground. “Looked good, but cold as a corpse. Didn’t even make a sound. No wonder he dumped her.”
“Total waste of time.”
I didn’t respond.
I couldn’t.
I crawled toward the corner, collecting what was left of my shredded clothes, trying to wrap myself in them–anything to hide the pain, the shame.
But there was no hiding it.
Not anymore.
I don’t remember how long I walked.
At some point, I found myself stumbling down an empty road, gravel biting into my feet.
And there, on a lonely street corner, stood a broken old payphone.
I stepped inside.
Slipped in the last coin I had.
Dialed a number.
When someone answered, I spoke clearly, calmly, as if it were just another errand.
“I need to file a death certificate.”
“Claire Sterling is dead.”
“I want out of his world–forever.”
- Writer
