He Called Me Impure

Chapter 4

I still remembered our second year together.

A severe influenza outbreak swept through Solmere Isle with a 3% fatality rate.

My health had always been poor. I got sick and was placed in mandatory isolation.

I was burning with fever when Vincent's face appeared above me. For a moment, I thought I was dreaming.

I grabbed his hand and rasped, "Vincent, I missed you so much. Am I never going to see you again?"

I was awake for only a few minutes each day.

Vincent had never cried in front of me before, but that day he sobbed like a child.

He was just a street thug then. I never learned how he managed it, but he got himself into a church hospital as a volunteer and searched until he found my name on the isolation list.

I called him an i***t. Only someone with no regard for his own life would come take care of a critically ill patient like me.

Vincent refused to listen. He slid the silver cross bracelet onto my wrist.

"Happy birthday, Cheryl."

We were desperately poor that year. We could stand at a flea market and stare at a single silver ring for ages because buying it was out of the question.

I had believed I would never live to see another spring.

Yet on the day Vincent wished me happy birthday, sunlight poured into my isolation room.

Only later did I learn that the silver cross had been melted down from the baptismal cross Vincent had worn as a boy.

Vincent had told me, "Cheryl, I'm hard to kill. I can survive anything. Your only job is to live a long, safe life."

That silver cross stayed on my wrist for 9 years. It had felt like a promise the young Vincent had fastened there himself.

I truly believed our souls had been fused together through it.

God knew how much that bracelet had once meant to me.

Vincent and I were like the bracelet now: something that had once fit me perfectly but no longer did.

I gritted my teeth and pulled until the metal bent and my wrist turned red.

Vincent crushed out his cigar so abruptly that panic flashed across his face.

His eyes went bloodshot.

"Cheryl, what the hell are you doing?"

I frowned through the tears I was fighting to hold back.

Hadn't he just asked me to put a price on 10 years of my life?

So I had named my price, and now he couldn't bear to pay it.

"Vincent, let's just pretend we..."

"Don't say it!"

He lunged forward to stop me, but Lily got in his way before he could reach me.

I smiled faintly as one tear slid down my cheek.

"Let's pretend we were never involved at all."

Then I threw the warped silver cross into the river.

The current swallowed it, leaving only a few ripples behind.

Vincent rushed to the bank and searched through the heavy rain and racing water, but he couldn't find the flash of silver.

Seeing him so frantic made my chest ache. I had to fight the urge to jump into the river and retrieve it myself.

'What was this supposed to mean? Did some part of him still care about me?'

Memories of our 10 years together rushed through my mind.

The pain went so deep that it left me numb, and even breathing felt difficult.

If all I got in return was that one "Happy birthday" when I thought I was dying, maybe the 10 years had still been worth it.

But no matter how hard the past was to let go, there would be no future for Vincent and me.

The rain had softened to a thin drizzle when I walked away feeling hollowed out.

Vincent came after me with an umbrella. He smelled strongly of cigars, and his hand closed firmly around my shoulder before I could shrug him off.

"Cheryl, I'll take you home."

I didn't turn around.

Then Lily stepped into the rain. Her clothes soaked through almost at once, making her pale, delicate face look even more pitiful.

"Vincent, are you really going to leave me here alone?"

His footsteps stopped.

I kept walking.

I was ready to keep walking through the rain when a large umbrella suddenly blocked the downpour above me.

Before I could react, someone pulled me into a warm, rain-damp embrace.

The hand curled around the umbrella shaft was pale and cool.

He angled the umbrella to shield me from Vincent's furious stare and spoke calmly.

"Mr. Russo should take care of his own woman. I'll take care of Miss Bennett myself."

How many years had it been since I heard anyone call me that?

My breath caught. I looked up and met a pair of blue eyes as deep as the Cobalt Sea.