Eat Your Regret

The disdain in Christopher's gaze and tone was evident, and there was a look of scorn on his face that I'd never seen in the past.

He thought I was disgusting?

I felt like a nail was being driven into my heart. It hurt so badly that I trembled while sucking in a deep breath. I clenched my fists, letting my nails bite into my palms. The pain was nothing compared to the one in my heart, though.

I'd worked all hours of the day to get enough money for him to treat his legs. During the day, I would make food deliveries. At night, I would wash dishes at a hotel. I'd done all of this so I could earn 20 thousand dollars as soon as possible.

My hands became cracked after everything I'd put them through, and the pain was sometimes so intense that I couldn't sleep at night. I'd never complained, though.

It turned out all I was getting in exchange for everything I'd done over the past three years was Christopher's disgust.

I was a young woman—how could I not want my hands to feel soft and supple? I'd just felt that his legs mattered more than anything.

He would make everything better when he held my hands as we snuggled in our tiny apartment. The heartache in his eyes had looked so genuine as he'd said, "I'm sorry, Daph. It's all my fault for dragging you down."

That was my first time feeling like someone cared about me. His eyes had been bright, and he'd looked like a puppy that was afraid of being abandoned. I'd held him comfortingly and told him not to overthink things, that I would make sure his legs were treated.

I thought we were lovers who only had each other—I thought we were family. Yet he was now telling his friends that he thought I was disgusting.

In the past, Christopher had told me that he couldn't bear to take things further with me. Now, I discovered it was because he found me dirty and repulsive.

His legs would occasionally act up, leaving him wheelchair-bound. Now, I learned it was because he just wanted to trick me and so he wouldn't have to go to work.

Christopher wrapped an arm around the woman beside him. He took the bracelet I'd just retrieved with my life on the line and threw it back into the ocean. Then, he said arrogantly, "The bracelet isn't worthy of you anymore, Edie. It's been dirtied by the ocean water."

He handed her a gold card. "There's a million dollars in this account. Use it to buy something you like."

I'd almost died while trying to retrieve that bracelet, but it seemed it was nothing more than a game to him and his friends. I was a pawn that could be discarded at any moment.

I dragged myself to a deserted corner and rested there while caressing the red string bracelet on my wrist. Christopher had given it to me.

"I made this lucky bracelet for you, Daph. I hope you don't think it's too cheap. Promise me you'll have it on at all times, okay?" He'd looked at me with bright eyes while putting it on for me. It was the only gift I'd received since childhood.

It was made of cheap red string, but I'd treated it like it was a precious treasure. Even when working, I would take it off and carefully tuck it into one of my pockets. I didn't want to dirty it.

It was something precious to me, but it had only been something he'd used to brush me off. What had he been thinking when giving it to me? Had he been thinking about what a fool I was for being so enchanted by a dumb piece of string? Or had he been mocking me for being pathetic?

He probably thought I was as cheap and worthless as the string bracelet.

Fortunately, my mask was still in place. No one recognized me. It was a way for me to protect the remnants of my dignity.

…

I returned to the small rented apartment Christopher and I shared. I'd once thought it was my safe place and one where I could feel like I was loved—it had been a source of energy for me.

Christopher sat in his wheelchair with his back to me. It was almost as if the man I'd seen on the cruise ship wasn't him.

"You're back, Daph." He turned the wheelchair around and came to me, revealing a small segment of his toned legs.

He'd been paralyzed for years, yet his muscles hadn't atrophied. I should've suspected him long ago.

Christopher's eyes were bright as he looked at me. He almost seemed like a loving husband who'd been expectantly waiting for his wife's return. That was how he'd managed to trick me for years.

I handed him a bank card. There were 20 thousand dollars in the account. I looked into his eyes and said, "I've earned enough money for your surgery."

A trace of surprise flashed in his eyes, but he soon suppressed it. I continued, "My boss gave me the money as a reward for helping him find something he'd lost."

I tried to detect a hint of guilt in his eyes—even the slightest hint would make me feel better. There was nothing, though.

He smiled at me and held me close. "Thanks for everything you've done, Daph. I'll make sure to repay you once my legs are treated."

He didn't seem surprised by the amount. I supposed 20 thousand dollars meant nothing to him.

A slight pain came from my arm, making me hiss softly. A trace of heartache flashed in Christopher's eyes as he blew on my wound. He murmured, "Does it hurt? How did you get injured? You're so careless, Daph. What will you do without me by your side?"

It was a stark contrast to him calling me disgusting on the cruise ship. It was as if the whole thing had been a nightmare I'd conjured.

I gritted my teeth and asked, "Do you have anything to say to me?"

He thought about it seriously while holding me. "I do. I missed you so much, Daph."