Looking at the pale girl lying in the hospital bed, I found myself at a loss for words. The once beautiful, vibrant face had withered so quickly as if all her youth had been drained away.
Her voice was barely audible, trembling ever so slightly.
“Ms. Vance, I really envy you.
“Evan loves you, protects you, and can’t bear to see you hurt.
“But me, I have nothing left. I can’t hold on to anything.”
I lowered my eyes, hiding the sympathy I felt.
The doctor had told me she’d had her uterus removed–she would never be able to have children again.
She was only 20, just at the start of her life.
But back then, blinded by hatred, all I could think about was revenge. I never imagined there was such a story behind it all.
She came from a family just as patriarchal as mine. Her own father had sold her to an old man, taken photos of her humiliation, and peddled them everywhere for five dollars apiece.
The men who bought those photos used them to threaten her and force themselves on her. She wanted to study, to work, to climb out of the mud, but the more she struggled, the deeper she sank.
My nails dug deep into my palm. Regret gnawed at me.
In this tragedy, I was one of the culprits.
I could never forgive her for coming between me and my husband, but I knew the real villain wasn’t her–it was Evan.
His indulgence made her believe she’d found a lifeline, not realizing it was just another abyss.
I exhaled, speaking quietly.
“I’ve already gotten rid of all those photos and messages.
“The men who hurt you–they’re in jail now. No one will bother you again.
“If you want, I can help you go to college. I can also…”
“Ms. Vance, thank you.” Her voice was so soft, her eyes utterly empty.
I suddenly found myself choked up.
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After a long silence, I spoke again. “You’re still young. Things will get better.
“Everyone makes mistakes. Even if you’re never forgiven, you can still move forward.”
Her gaze flickered, tears welling up in her eyes. “Ms. Vance, I’m sorry.”
My hand on the door paused, unable to answer.
As I pushed the door open, my voice was almost a whisper. “Aveline, as a woman, I’m sorry.”
Evan stood right outside, his expression impossibly conflicted. I brushed past him, not looking back.
He reached out desperately, gripping my hand tight. “Elira, I’m sorry.”
288 Vouchers
His eyes were full of love, regret, and longing. He held my hand so tightly—no more dry heaving, no more wiping away my touch.
All the things I’d once dreamed of now felt nothing but laughable.
I pried his hand away, my expression calm. “You’re right to apologize, but I’ll never forgive you.”
Just a taste of sweetness in the darkness was enough for me to endure all those years.
But I’m done searching for sugar among broken glass.
Evan looked at me in agony.
“Elira, can’t you give me another chance? I’ll treat you right, I promise.
“Let’s pretend everything that happened was just a bad dream, okay?
“We can start over. I’ll show you how sincere I am.”
“Sincere?”
I stopped in my tracks, almost laughing at his words.
“You never really loved me, not even at your best. What sincerity could there possibly be now?
“Today you suspect I was assaulted. Tomorrow you’ll think I’m cheating. The day after, you’ll decide I’ve changed over something trivial.
“Evan, you are, through and through, a selfish, petty man.
“Being with you is a disaster for any woman.”
He stumbled back two steps, eyes rimmed red. But I would never look back again.
When Aveline was discharged, I brought her a bouquet of roses.
I told her, “I’ve arranged for you to study economics in France. You can start a new life there.”
She lowered her eyes, hiding her emotions, and gently inhaled the scent of the roses. “They’re beautiful, and they
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smell wonderful. Thank you, Ms. Vance.”
I stared at the pink petals and nodded softly. “Pink really isn’t so bad.”
