And increasingly indifferent to me.
But he still needed me. He needed to see me
react, to see me jealous, to draw reassurance from my emotional outbursts. It had been ten years. I looked in the mirror and saw the fine lines around my eyes, the emptiness in my gaze. I felt drained. Ethan, on the other hand, had been reborn, more handsome, more
confident, more…everything.
The years hadn’t touched Ethan’s handsome face, but my memories were fading. What had seventeen–year–old Ally seen in twenty–year- old Ethan? What was he like at twenty–three, obsessed with me, desperate to marry me, unable to sleep without holding me?
I couldn’t remember. I just remembered we never had that wedding. He’d promised me a lavish, unforgettable ceremony, but I’d told him it was too much. He’d said, fine, then he’d buy me a castle, fill it with flowers, and declare his love with only me as a witness. He’d ask me a thousand times if I loved him, and all I’d have to
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say was, “Yes.” He’d remember that moment forever. Ten years. My painful, blissful youth, gone. Mom’s death was a wake–up call. I finally woke from the hazy dream. I’d given the Ethan
—
family a son a life for a life. The debt was
paid. I wasn’t Mrs. Ethan anymore. I wasn’t
Evan’s mom. I was just Ally. Ally, picking up the college acceptance letter she’d dropped ten years ago, ready to start her journey.
Mom’s funeral was small. Years of marriage
and devotion to her family had left her isolated. I used the money I’d saved for a bigger service
to buy her a beautiful plot overlooking the
valley. Then I bought two more. Ashley said she
wanted to be buried next to me. Best friends in
–
life, best friends in death we could gossip for
eternity, even into our next lives. Alex, taking
this very seriously, piped up that he wanted a
plot too. Ashley flicked his head. “When you’re
older. You’ll change your mind a hundred times
before then.”
They turned a somber occasion into something
almost lighthearted. It eased my grief. Alex,
<
disappointed about the lack of his own
gravesite, held my hand on the way home.
“Mommy, can I have ice cream? Then I won’t
be sad.”
Ashley rolled her eyes. He’d had an ice cream
cone that morning. She told me not to give in.
But Alex gave me his best puppy–dog eyes. I
was weakening. Ignoring Ashley’s glare, I was
about to agree when a shrill voice shrieked,
“That’s MY mommy! You can’t call her that!”
Evan appeared out of nowhere and shoved Alex
to the ground. Alex’s hands scraped against the
pavement, drawing blood. He burst into tears.
“Mommy!”
My heart shattered. I scooped him up, glaring at
Evan, who stood there, fists clenched, eyes red.
He flinched under my gaze, but his expression
remained defiant. “I’m your son,” he reminded
- me.
