- 2.
The next morning, Jason’s driver arrived, not
Jason himself. He handed me a velvet box.
“Mrs. Walker,” he said respectfully, “Mr. Walker sends his apologies. He has pressing business and asked me to give you this.”
Inside lay our wedding ring. We’d separated in our fifth year. I moved out of our house, Anya moved in. A month later, news of her pregnancy reached me. Jason had visited once, trying to smooth things over. I couldn’t recall the specifics, only him saying, “Sarah, I need to give Anya a name. Let’s end this amicably.” I bit my lip, tasting blood, fighting
back tears as I slapped him. Jason, I’d
く
screamed internally, you want to give her a
name? Do you remember when you were 20,
promising me a happy home?
I took the box. “I’m not your ‘Mrs.‘ anymore.
And tell him to hurry up with Anya and their
drama. I don’t have time to waste.”
My time was running out.
Jason, busy at the hospital with Anya, texted
that he’d be free in two weeks. I didn’t reply,
just boarded a bus back to Springfield.
Nothing kept me in River City anymore. The
person I loved was in Springfield.
I took a cab to the orphanage, my childhood
home. Breathing the air there felt strangely
comforting. “I’m home,” I whispered. I was an
orphan, raised in this very place. Jason was
L
right; I’d die with no one to claim me. No
parents, no family.
I pushed open the rusty gate, the scent of
honeysuckle washing over me. I looked up at
the old tree, larger than it was years ago. My
teenage sweetheart used to climb it to see
- me.
A familiar, kind voice broke my reverie.
“Sarah?”
I turned, tears welling up. “Mrs. Davies! It’s
been so long.”
“It has, child,” she said, clearly excited. She’d
been kindest to me growing up, protecting me
from bullies, sneaking me extra food. “I was
just talking about you with Chloe the other
day.”
<
Chloe Benson. My childhood best friend, until
we fell for the same boy. How ridiculous.
“Just wanted to visit,” I forced a smile, hoping
she wouldn’t see the sadness in my eyes.
“How are things?”
“Good, all good.” She studied me, reaching
out to pat my head. “You’ve lost so much
weight. How’s that young man of yours?”
She meant Jason. She’d attended our
wedding, witnessed our seemingly perfect
love, the showering of blessings. He’d been
the most dazzling boy, sneaking away from
his family to visit me, reaching down from
that tree with a bright, sunny smile. “Sarah,
let’s go watch the sunset.
I stared at the spot, lost in memory. “He’s
<
busy,” I blinked. “Couldn’t come with me.”
She seemed to believe me, urging me to take
care. I felt another pang of sadness and made
an excuse to leave. But before stepping out, I
looked back, as if seeing a younger me,
frowning beneath the tree. Jason, you’re late
again! I’ve been waiting forever.
My vision blurred. I turned and smiled. Jason,
I’m not waiting anymore.
