He Stands at the End of Memory

Sebastian pulled every connection and every ounce of power he had, searching the whole city like a man possessed. After a full day and night, he finally got Serena back.

"Sebastian, this had nothing to do with Vivienne. She didn't do it. You've got her wrong."

That one short sentence shattered all of Sebastian's suspicion and certainty in an instant.

He went rigid, the menace draining from his eyes, replaced by heavy shock and a belated trace of guilt.

A moment later he walked into my room.

"Vivienne, I'm sorry. I was rash. I blamed you wrongly."

So no matter how I explained myself, it counted for nothing next to one light sentence from Serena.

After I was discharged, I went back alone to the house full of false tenderness.

One by one I gathered up the expensive, exquisite gifts and tossed them into a discard box.

There was no reluctance and no regret, only a complete sense of release. I did not want a shred of the affection built on lies.

Once Sebastian had settled things with Serena, he hurried back to the house.

"Vivienne, stop sulking. It was my fault. I'll never let you feel slighted again. I'll buy all of it back for you. Don't be angry, okay?"

He fumbled to make amends, soothing me out of habit with lavish gifts and soft words, certain that, as always, a little coaxing would bring me around.

But my calm and my indifference unsettled him more than any hysterics could have.

He was about to say more when the phone in his pocket rang urgently.

A rushed, panicked voice on the line told him Serena had suddenly developed acute leukemia. Her condition was dangerous, and she urgently needed a marrow match or her life would be at risk.

The color drained from Sebastian's face. Without a moment's hesitation, he rushed to the hospital.

Everyone from Serena's family and all of Sebastian's relatives came to the hospital to be tested, but one after another the results came back, and not a single one matched. Every hope collapsed.

The mood outside the ward was heavy with despair as Serena's body grew weaker and her life hung in the balance.

In the thick of his anxiety, Sebastian turned to where I stood quietly in the corner, his tone hard and brooking no refusal. "Vivienne, you get tested too."

The moment he spoke, an elder beside us cut in, full of worry. "Sebastian, no! Vivienne is still pregnant. She absolutely cannot take that risk!"

Everyone was thinking of my body, of the child I had once carried.

Only Sebastian had eyes for nothing but the dying Serena.

His face was hard, his tone final, utterly unmoved, every word cutting. "There can be other pregnancies later. There is only one Serena. Next to her life, this little risk isn't worth mentioning."

As the words landed, the room fell completely silent.

I stood where I was, eyes lowered, as the last faint, trivial hope inside me crumbled to ash.

In his eyes, my body, my child, and my life could never measure up to Serena's slightest comfort.

I did not argue and I did not resist. I went along and gave the marrow sample.

After a few days' wait, the results came back.

I was not a match.

Everyone quietly breathed easier, all but Sebastian, whose eyes filled with heavy disappointment and defeat.

Just as everyone neared despair, word came from the hospital that the one perfect marrow match had been found.

That afternoon, passing the study, I heard low voices through the half-open door, Sebastian and the doctor.

Every word was clear, and every one cut deep.

"It's confirmed. The only match is you, Don."

"Acute leukemia can't wait. Your marrow is the only hope of saving Miss Brooks."

The next second came Sebastian's voice, steady and certain, without a trace of hesitation. "I know. Schedule the procedure immediately and get the transplant to Serena as soon as possible. Keep this strictly confidential. Don't let Vivienne find out."

The doctor sounded uneasy. "Don, marrow donation takes a serious toll on the body. You will need a long recovery afterward. Are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"As long as it saves Serena, a little damage is nothing. I'll come up with an excuse afterward, say there's urgent business that needs me overseas and that I'll be away for a while. Once the surgery's done and she's fully recovered, everything will be fine."

I stood outside the door, my fingertips cold, a clear and total emptiness settling in my heart.

So that was it.

For Serena he would gamble his own health and give everything, without a backward glance.

My child and I, by contrast, had always been nothing more than disposable accessories in his life.

On the day of the surgery, bright sunlight fell through the glass into the front hall.

I walked up to him and held out a plain white gift box.

"For you," I said evenly.

He took it for a peace offering now that I had cooled down. Relieved, he reached out and accepted the box, but did not open it.

His mind was entirely on Serena waiting in the operating room. With no attention to spare for me, he offered an offhand reassurance. "When I'm back from my business trip, I'll spend real time with you."

With that he turned and hurried off, and lay down in the operating room.

The heavy doors of the operating room swung slowly shut, sealing away every obsession he had chased.

At the same time, at the airport on the edge of the city.

Dragging a single suitcase, my immigration visa already in hand, I turned and boarded a flight to a faraway country.

The plane lifted off and broke through the clouds, looking down on the city that had trapped three years of my love, three years of my honest heart.

At last I was free.

There was no gift in his box.

There was only a clean medical report confirming the abortion, and a divorce agreement already signed and in effect.