In the End, She Forgot Our Intimate love

“That car crash was never an accident,” Arthur’s voice pierced my heart. Each words grew like sharp vines in my chest and torn my flesh.

“Emmy just wanted to teach you a lesson that day. She never thought your brother would risk his life for you.”

“And whose fault is that?” I asked.

“Blame yourself for being cheap,” he answered.

I went wild and wanted to jump off the plane and go home. But the cabin was full of Elma’s men—those she ordered to watch my movements.

I could not get out of the plane. I couldn't even return to Centrapolis.

I stayed abroad for five years. Five full years.

I watched that vine grow into a giant tree in my chest. Every breath hurt like I was choking.

I had thought even the signed paper was real. I lost my mind and tried to rush at Elma, but guards held me down. I could only watch Elma carry Arthur away.

“Elma!” I screamed like a madman. “I will make you pay! Elma! I will kill you! I will fucking kill you!”

The crowd around me snickered in mockery.

“Look at him, he’s crazy! Everyone knows Ms. Green is in charge in Centrapolis!”

“I heard that story—Ms. Green made Mr. Hall disappear, ground him to ashes. Mr. Evans even livestreamed.”

My head rang as I continued hearing people’s comments.

“She crushed him to ashes—so cruel.”

“Ms. Green said if someone makes Mr. Evans unhappy, she will make that person suffer a hundredfold—even her own husband.”

“Didn’t Ms. Green also use her ex-husband to become rich?”

The voices faded into rain. A heavy storm poured on me. Their words kept playing in my mind like a loop.

Five years ago, Arthur smiled and praised Elma, “I never wanted Ms. Green to love me so much, but she said if someone makes me unhappy, she will make that person suffer a hundredfold.”

They opened the coffin that held my brother.

I rasped, “No—” but no one heard.

I watched them cruelly open the box. Elma scooped up a handful of ashes and threw them into the air.

For a moment the air felt warm, like my brother’s last warmth. The rain and the ashes together felt like a strange, painful comfort.

“No—” I shouted again, madly begging them, “Please, don’t do this to my brother!”

A ringing pulled me back to the present. I cried and told the person on the phone, “I will get revenge! I will make Elma pay! I want Arthur dead! I want them dead!”

Arthur was not badly hurt. He only pretended to be weak to get Elma’s pity. He watched her care for him and smiled.

“Emmy,” he said, “after this is over, will you marry me?”

Even after five years, Elma loved him but would not give him a proper status. He begged for a rightful place by her side.

“Emmy,” Arthur choked, “I only want the right to stand by you officially.”

His fragile and needy look softened Elma’s heart. However, before she could answer the hospital door burst open.

I was covered in blood and mud, my hands still holding the knife. I met Elma’s shocked face. “You really won’t just drop dead—”

I felt a pang of disbelieve before I could finsih my words.

I rushed straight to Elma and stabbed her in the chest.

I grabbed her hair and laughed coldly. “Elma! Today is the day you die!”