Love to the Brink, Only Empty Joy

My five-year-old daughter, Cora Hall, got a call from Oliver Hall and ran off to find him on her own.

Little did she know, no one at the house would open the door for her.

It was a typhoon day, and she stood waiting outside in the rain.

By the time I got there, Cora was crying her eyes out, clutching her chest.

She looked up at me and asked, "Mommy, does Daddy not like me? Have I been bad? Why won't Daddy see me?"

Before she could finish, her heart condition flared up and she was gone.

I fell to my knees at the doorstep, holding Cora's cooling body, and broke down sobbing.

Just then, my phone rang.

It was Selah Guthrie, Oliver's first love.

She said, "I'm so sorry, Amber. I just wanted to treat Cora to a nice meal.

"Oliver said he suddenly felt like going to Woiddiff. Why don't you send Cora here to have dinner with us?"

I was so angry I couldn't speak.

Hearing Oliver and Selah's laughter on the other end of the line, I finally found my voice.

I said, "Tell Oliver you two can go ahead with the wedding next month. I don't deserve him."

...

I didn't tell Oliver about Cora's death.

I knew he wouldn't care.

So, I chose to send her off alone, not wanting him to disturb her peace.

My only wish was for Cora to have a healthy body in her next life.

I hoped she'd meet better parents.

I prayed she wouldn't run into me or Oliver again.

Back home, I started packing up Cora's things. As I stared blankly at her teddy bear, tears began to fall.

Just a few days ago, I'd happily told her, "Mommy's going to marry Daddy next month. You can see him every day."

Who could have imagined it would turn out like this?

"Selah, I'm home. Let's talk later. I'll pick you up in a bit," came Oliver's voice from outside.

The phone was on speaker, and I could hear Selah's voice clear as day. It grated on my ears.

Oliver was always honest about it.

Whether it was phone calls or going out with Selah, he never hid it from me.

This place I thought of as home probably didn't even qualify as a hotel in his eyes.

He came in, took off his coat, and collapsed on the sofa.

He looked exhausted.

"I'm beat. Draw me a bath, and bring my usual whiskey on the rocks to the bathroom," he ordered me out of habit.

In the past, I would have done it without a second thought.

The usually suave and calculating Oliver often showed this lazy side to me.

I used to think I was his safe harbor. Now I realized I was just convenient.

"Do it yourself," I said coldly, continuing to pack Cora's things.

He grunted in surprise and sat up to look at me.

He said, "What's your problem now? Is it because I didn't have dinner with Cora the other day? Isn't that a bit much?"

No, it wasn't too much.

Cora and I were worthless to him.

I cursed myself for not seeing it sooner, for still having hopes.

He continued, "Cora's just a kid, she doesn't know any better. But you shouldn't make a fuss.

"Look, I brought you a silk scarf from Woiddiff."

Oliver was still the same, slapping me and giving me a sugar cube.

But Cora's death had finally opened my eyes.