"Ethel Henson is the woman who saved my life. Whatever she says, I go along with it. You didn't actually believe what I said back there, did you?"
He was still as gentle as he used to be.
But now that gentleness made my stomach turn.
I shoved his arm away and stepped back.
His brow darkened instantly, like a switch had been flipped. Like he was the one who had the right to be angry.
"Sarah, when did you get so stubborn?"
"And this," he pointed at the blood on the ground, a mocking smile playing across his face, "you came all this way just so I'd feel sorry for you?"
"You've survived this long without dying. Your illness must be better by now. How could it possibly be getting worse?"
I stared at him, wide-eyed. Frozen.
He reached out to grab my arm again.
I stepped back, wiped the tears from the corners of my eyes, and forced myself to stand.
"Nathan." My voice grew fainter with every word. "It's been ten years. Don't you owe me at least an explanation?"
His hand hung suspended in the air, then slowly fell back to his side.
"Sarah, you've lost weight."
There was a time when even a scratch on my hand would make his eyes go red.
He used to kneel in front of me, tears streaming down his face, whispering, "I'm so sorry for everything you've been through."
But the man standing before me now delivered those words with a face carved from ice.
He had fallen for someone else. Completely.
Just as I opened my mouth to speak, a small voice piped up from behind me.
"Mommy..."
I frowned slightly, crouching down to pull Daisy Abbott into my arms.
"What are you doing here?"
Before Daisy could answer, Nathan shoved her to the ground.
I whipped around. His face had gone white with rage.
"Sarah! It's only been ten years, and you've already married someone else and had a kid?"
"Whose bastard is this?!"
The veins in his neck stood out like cords.
I almost laughed from sheer disbelief.
That year, the doctors told him I didn't have much time left. In the middle of the night, he'd wept so hard he couldn't breathe. The next morning, he was lying beside my hospital bed, completely still. His face was ashen, foam trickling from the corner of his mouth.
I'd been so terrified I leapt out of bed and slammed the call button.
He slumped gently against me. He'd already stopped breathing.
By the time the doctors rushed in, there were no vital signs left.
His friends took his body away. I never saw him again.