Ashes of Betrayal, Flames of Revenge

CHAPTER TWO

"What do you mean you're leaving? Are you serious right now?" Brian's face twisted with disbelief.

I clutched my suitcase tighter. "I can't take this anymore. I'm bleeding because Vanessa pushed me through a glass table, and you're acting like I'm the villain!"

Brian ran his hands through his disheveled hair. "Vanessa is having an episode and instead of being understanding, you want to leave? How selfish can you be, Viola? After everything we've been through!"

"Selfish? I've given you seven years of my life!"

"And what about Vanessa? She's lost everything! Her parents, her brother—Damien was all she had left, and now she only has us! You know she's fragile. You know she needs special care!"

"And what about what I need? What about…"

"God, it's always about you!" He slammed his fist against the wall. "I promised Damien I would take care of her. What kind of man would I be if I broke that promise? Is that the kind of person you want to be with? Someone who abandons people when they need help?"

Tears stung my eyes. "That's not fair."

Brian's expression suddenly softened. He walked over and took my hands in his. "Okay, I'm very sorry. I shouldn't have yelled. You're hurt. Let me take care of that wound for you."

I stood frozen as he began cleaning the cuts on my arm. The sudden change in his demeanor confused me. Just as he was wrapping a bandage around my arm, a piercing scream came from the living room.

"My head! Brian! My head!" Vanessa wailed.

Brian immediately dropped my arm, letting the bandage unravel.

"We have to go. Now."

"But my arm…"

"That can wait," he snapped. "Come on, we need to take her to the hospital."

I stared at him in disbelief. "Am I seriously expected to help take care of her after what just happened?"

Brian's eyes flashed with rage. "Because of YOU, she's having an episode now! Come on, let's take her now!"

He rushed to Vanessa, scooping her into his arms while I stood there, wounds still fresh, my promotion news forgotten. He didn't even look back as he barked orders at me.

"Grab her purse! And don't forget her medication!"

At the hospital, Brian transformed. The man who moments ago had wished I would bleed more was now frantically calling for doctors, his voice breaking with concern.

"Please, someone help her! She needs immediate attention! Is there a specialist available?"

The nurses rushed Vanessa into an examination room while Brian paced the hallway, making calls to every doctor he knew.

I sat alone in the waiting area, the memory washing over me like cold water. Last year, when I had that severe abdominal pain, Brian had simply told me to "take a Tylenol and stop being dramatic."

By the time I called my colleague Sandra to drive me to the hospital, the infection had spread. The doctor said if I had waited even two more hours, I might have died.

Sandra had stayed with me all night while Brian was "working late." I later discovered he was with Vanessa, comforting her after a bad date.

Once Vanessa was stable, I slipped away. There was something I needed to get from the hospital—the small urn containing my parents' ashes. The only thing I had left of them after the car accident that took them both three years ago.

When I returned to the hospital, Brian looked relieved.

"Thank God she's stable now," he said, not even noticing I'd left. Then he lowered his voice. "If something had happened to her, you would have joined your parents soon enough."

My blood ran cold. Had he just threatened me?

Vanessa emerged from the room, leaning dramatically against the door frame. "I feel so weak," she whimpered.

Brian immediately rushed to her side, scooping her up in his arms. "I've got you, sweetheart," he whispered, his lips close to her ear.

The way they looked at each other made me sick. Like I wasn't even there.

"Let's get you home," Brian said, carrying Vanessa toward the exit.

I followed silently, clutching the small urn to my chest. When we reached the elevators, Brian pressed the button.

"Wait," I said. "Can we take the stairs? You know I'm claustrophobic."

Brian rolled his eyes. "Are you serious right now? I'm carrying Vanessa! We can't take the stairs!"

"But I can't"

"God, Viola! Can't you be considerate for once in your life? Vanessa needs to rest! She can't walk down five flights of stairs, and all you are thinking of is your irrational fear?!"

The elevator doors opened, and Brian stepped inside. I hesitated, my heart already racing.

"Get in or stay behind. I don't care anymore," he snapped.

I stepped into the elevator, pressing myself against the wall as my chest tightened. The doors closed, and I felt the panic rising. My breathing became shallow, and the small space seemed to shrink around me.

"Brian," I gasped, holding out the urn. "Please help me hold this. I can't—I can't drop it."

But at that moment, Vanessa moaned. "My head is pounding again.”

Brian immediately turned his attention to her, adjusting her in his arms, whispering soothing words.

"Brian, please," I begged, my hands shaking violently. "It's about to fall—"

Too late. The silver urn slipped from my trembling fingers, hitting the elevator floor with a crack. The lid popped off, and the ashes—all I had left of my parents scattered across the dirty elevator floor.

"No!" I cried, dropping to my knees. "No, no, no!"

I tried to scoop the ashes back into the broken urn, but it was useless. Tears blinded me as I watched the last pieces of my parents disappear between the cracks of the elevator wall.