8
447words
When James and I got married, my parents fiercely opposed it, seeing his unhealthy bond with Ellen.
Blinded by his sweet words, I said hurtful things, wounding them.
Disappointed, they immigrated abroad.
But learning of my ordeal, they were furious and heartbroken.
They'd arranged for the plane to land on the island to keep me safe from James.Mom's eyes reddened at first sight.
"Claire, you've lost weight."
At home, when she watched me remove my wig to reveal scars from scratching rashes, she broke down. The powerful drugs had caused severe hair loss and agonizing rashes that kept me awake, scratching until I bled.
I wiped her tears.
"Mom, I'm safe now, am I?"
"I'll listen to you from now on, stay put."
"Tomorrow, I'll see a doctor. They'll fix me."
She hugged me tightly.
"Claire, you've suffered."
Dad turned away, wiping tears.
The next morning, Mom took me to the hospital.
The doctor said the drugs had severely damaged my body, but timely care prevented worse outcomes, like cancer.
With proper treatment, I'd recover.
Mom kept me busy with tasks, Dad bought me gifts to cheer me up.
They feared idle time would bring thoughts of James, making me sad.
I didn't try to forget him but realized I hadn't thought of him in ages.
Until my phone pushed an international news alert.
James offered a huge reward for my whereabouts, calling me his missing wife.
He even wrote a 10,000 - word essay declaring his love.
For money, people sent false leads.
James chased everyone, desperate.
For six months, he scoured half the globe, finding nothing.
Fearing recognition, I quit my new job, staying home.
Outdoors, I wore a mask to hide my face.
It was absurd to see people praise James for his "devotion."
He'd hurt me so badly that I had to flee, and now he could be with Ellen freely.
Yet he claimed I was the only one he loved, playing the part of the devoted husband so well that he seemed to believe his own act.I thought we'd never charm paths again.
While sunning myself by the lake, I saw James.
I pulled up my mask, lowered my hat.
Too late—his gaze locked on my face, stunned.
"Claire?"
I turned to flee.
He blocked me, eyes red, disbelieving.
I lowered my voice.
"Sir, you've got the wrong person."
He shook his head stubbornly.
"You're Claire.I'd know you anywhere. Don't lie."
"Even as ashes, I'd recognize you."
He reached for my mask; I stepped back.
"James, we're done."
He ignored me, rambling.
"Claire, do you know how I've lived this past year? I missed you so..."
