Beneath the Same Old Moon

Left Behind

If I hadn't found out the truth, I would be raising hell out of sheer spite right about now. I would have clung to him and demanded that he carry me, forcing my scent all over him.

Now, as I noticed the wary look in Elliot's eyes, I merely wiped my face and turned away calmly. "Let's go."

Elliot froze for a moment, utterly caught off guard.

We stayed quiet on the drive home. He kept replying to someone's messages while I scrolled through the wedding-dress photos my father had sent me.

Just then, he blurted out, "Stop the car."

I turned, puzzled. He smoothly hid his phone and said shortly, "Something's come up. I need to make a trip to the south side of the city. Ms. Graf, you should take a cab back."

Rivergate was being hammered by heavy rain, and it was around 4 to 5 a.m. right now. The streets were absolutely desolate. I opened my mouth to refuse, but Elliot had already opened the door and shoved me outside.

The alcohol hit my system like a train wreck right then and there. I couldn't keep my balance, slipping straight into the muddy water like a drowned rat.

"Elliot!" I shouted, furious. Alas, he didn't even glance my way. Instead, he simply instructed the chauffeur to drive.

So, the car sped off through the storm, splashing a fresh wave of filthy water onto me. I stood alone in the downpour, abandoned by the whole world. There was no cab to hail, as none made their rounds here under such terrible weather. I ended up walking 3 miles home through the rain.

…

When I finally arrived at the villa, the lights were still on. Chloe was lounging comfortably on the sofa in her plush Gaul-imported pajamas, enjoying supper.

The most famous restaurant on the south side didn't offer delivery—only pick-up.

Elliot stood beside her, and every glance he gave her smoldered with restrained affection.

"Natalie, you're back!" Chloe set down her bowl and looped her arm through mine with practiced warmth. "Elliot bought supper for me. Come eat with us."

"Don't touch me." I pulled my arm back and stepped away in disgust.

She blinked, startled by my vehemence. Her eyes reddened instantly as she looked helplessly at Elliot. "Elliot… did I do something wrong?"

A flicker of pain crossed Elliot's gaze before he looked at me with barely masked aversion. Chloe looked pleased, her own expression turning shy as she glanced at him. "Elliot, my foot hurts a little. Can you carry me to my room?"

I saw his throat bob twice the second she made that request. Sure enough, his eyes had darkened behind his gold-rimmed glasses.

He swept her into his arms and headed upstairs in a few quick strides, even remembering to switch off the living-room lights as he went. I stood there dripping, swallowed by the dark.

…

After a long while, a bitter and hollow chuckle escaped my lips as I drifted back to my room like a ghost.

That night, I came down with a fever. In my delirium, I thought I smelled the disinfectant Elliot always carried. When I focused on the scent, I also caught the cloying sweetness of Chloe's perfume—the scent I hated with every fiber of my being.

Two days had passed by the time I could get up and about. There were only four days left before the wedding.

After washing up, I headed out to pick up a few things from the mall. The moment I stepped outside, Chloe oddly insisted on squeezing into my car. Elliot watched closely from the side. I ignored both of them and stared out at the passing scenery.

As we crossed an intersection, the car suddenly lurched out of control. The black Maybach shot straight off the Harborview Bridge.

Saltwater flooded my throat in an instant. The more I struggled, the more it hurt. Flashes of red blurred before my eyes—my own blood drifting in the water. I saw Elliot smash the car window and push Chloe upward, fighting to get her to the surface.

However, he didn't even turn around to save me, not even when the sea swallowed the last of my consciousness.