I Was Just a Stand-In for His Dead First Love, Until I Walked Away for Good
Chapter 3
He paused, and his voice softened in a way I couldn't place.
「Don't forget what you said the day your father died.」
My head snapped up, my eyes locking onto his.
My heart felt like it was being sawed back and forth by a dull blade, the ache spreading through every inch of me.
All at once I remembered a night three years ago, the night of my car accident.
When I came to, the weak glow of the headlights showed me my father in the driver's seat, his body torn and bloody.
Stranded in the middle of nowhere with no signal, I'd lost every chance to call for help, and no matter what I tried, I couldn't get the door open.
I was trapped in that cabin reeking of blood for a full day and night,
forced to watch the blood drain from my father's body, drop by drop,
the terror and torment magnified beyond measure in that sealed, lightless space.
After the rescue crews arrived, I stayed unconscious for three whole days before I woke.
From then on I carried severe claustrophobia and a wound that never healed.
When I was drowning in the grief of losing the only family I had, it was Otto who held me and soothed me.
「Don't be afraid, Beth. You still have my mother. Pour all that loss into caring for her. We'll look after her together, and everything will be all right.」
Tears streamed down my face. I nodded hard and made him that promise.
That same year, the old woman's illness took a turn for the worse.
She had a fierce temper by nature, and every time I bathed her or cleaned her in her sickbed, she'd scowl at me,
bark orders, treat me with nothing but contempt.
Days like that went on for three years.
I'd thought about telling Otto how much I was suffering, but every time I remembered the words he'd said after my father died,
my tenderness for the old woman only deepened.
Yet now the truth told me that all the blood and devotion I'd poured out over those years had gone to the mother of the woman my husband loved.
And those so-called words of comfort, did Otto truly mean them to console me,
or was he using my devotion and my heart's labor to pour out all the love he felt for Cindy?
「Otto, you have no right to bring up my father's death.」
My throat tightened, and I forced out a bleak smile.
「Even now that you know she's Cindy's mother, after living under the same roof with her all these years, don't you feel anything at all?」
Otto knit his brows in reproach even as he shoved me into the wardrobe, his movements brutal.
「Since you've forgotten the promise you made, then go back to where it all began and remember it properly.」
As he turned the lock, his hand slowed.
「Don't hold this against me, Beth. The dead deserve our respect. Cindy is gone, and caring for her mother is our duty now.」
「Beth, I won't hurt you. Once you've thought it through, I'll let you out.」
As Otto's footsteps faded farther and farther away, nothing was left but dead silence.
The cramped space sent my heartbeat spiraling out of control, the familiar suffocation sweeping through me in an instant,
exactly like the despair of being trapped in that crushed cabin all those years ago.
Panic seized me until my whole body went rigid and convulsing, and on the edge of suffocation, all I could do was pound frantically at the door and beg for help.
I don't know how long passed before soft footsteps came from outside the wardrobe,
sounding like Dylan Henson, the child I'd loved for five years.
「Dylan, get someone to help me out.」
The plea left me on instinct.
Beyond the door it went quiet for a few seconds, and I could feel a small figure standing just outside the wardrobe,
but he made no move to help. Instead, he let out a sneering laugh.
「Haha, the bad woman finally got punished! Grandma says you stole my mommy's place, so you're a bad woman!」
The shrill, piercing child's voice was nothing like the warm, sweet one I knew.
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