That simple question broke me in a strange way. The man who had surrendered me to fear was now dying, only asking about my safety.
“Don’t try to speak,” I said while holding his hand.
“I am so sorry,” he muttered.
“Don’t try to fix this like that,” I said, tears blurring my vision.
“I can’t fix it any other way,” he replied softly.
They took him to the hospital, and he survived the injury, but he was left weak, under heavy guard, and with no way to escape his future. Victor confessed enough to open a massive, state wide investigation.
The hard drive was found buried behind the cellar wall, containing proof of many more shattered lives. A week later, I filed for a total divorce.
Brian was lying in a hospital bed when I brought him the final papers to sign. His face was sunken, and his eyes were bloodshot.
“Did you ever truly love me?” he asked.
I looked at him for a long time. “Yeah, I did,” I answered honestly.
His eyes filled with tears. “So at least not everything was a total lie,” he said.
“No, but that doesn’t save you from the consequences,” I said.
