
The Rain won't Last Forever
Chapter 9
I drove to the bridal store and stayed until it closed, deep into the night. I watched as a shadowy figure sneaked up to the second floor, searching for something.
The flickering flame of a lighter danced in front of the figure. As I got a closer look, I realized it was Luna.
Just as she was about to set the wedding dress on fire, I turned on all the lights. The harsh glare of the fluorescent bulbs illuminated her panic, making it all too clear.
Luna quickly put away the lighter and asked in surprise. “Oliver, why are you here? What are you doing?”
What she didn’t know was that this store was mine. I had opened it three years ago, for Emmy.
A few days ago, the store manager told me that Luna had been hanging around the area, acting suspiciously but never coming inside.
So I intentionally left a window open tonight, lying in wait for her to make her move.
“If I hadn’t been here, how would I have known you wanted to burn this wedding dress?”
It was the wedding dress I had designed for Emmy three years ago, adorned with rhinestones that sparkled like the ocean on the day we first met.
Gleaming, dazzling.
Luna stammered, unable to form a coherent response.
My anger erupted uncontrollably. I lunged at her, gripping her throat and forcing her down to the ground.
“It was you, spreading rumors about me being with you, photoshopping pictures and posting them online to make Emmy believe it.”
“It was you, bribing the nanny to give Emmy sleeping pills and using the opportunity to steal her phone card and contact Hudson.”
“It was you, encouraging Hudson to come to Nightfall, conspiring with the nanny to kill my son and my mother!”
“So it was all you! Everything was because of you!”
Tears streamed down my face as I roared, my grip tightening with every word.
Luna’s neck veins bulged and her limbs flailed desperately, seeking any chance to breathe. Her hands clawed at my face wildly, sharp nails cutting into my skin.
With rage burning in my eyes, I tightened my grip, like a demon escaped from hell.
Her face flushed a furious, deep red and her eyes began to swell with angry veins. Yet, even as she was gasping for breath, she managed to speak in a broken voice.
“You… if you don’t like… me… why… did you… still kiss me…”
When her breath finally stopped, I yanked my hands away in shock.
All the absurdities, all the tragedies—it was all because of me.
It was my fear of truly facing my love for her that had caused all this.
Trapped in the role of a sibling, unable to escape, I stubbornly destroyed everyone around me.
If I had walked toward her that day with determination, if I hadn't deliberately ignored her because of a single kiss….
Would everything have turned out differently?
I deeply regret lying to Luna that day when she came to the store, telling her it was my wife.
All because of my childish desire for revenge.
What was Emmy really thinking when she sincerely congratulated me?
I picked up Luna’s discarded lighter, set the wedding dress ablaze and sat down in tears, opening Emmy’s diary.
“I loved Oliver for thirteen years; I can’t forget him.”
“So I let him hold me tight while drunk, not pushing him away that night. It was the biggest mistake of my life.”
“I became the most loathsome intruder in their love story, shattering his bond with Luna and betraying the innocent Hudson.”
“So all their revenge against me is what I deserve. It’s the best punishment for me and I have no right to blame them.”
“But why did Angela have to die? Why did it have to cost the lives of my child and their grandmother?”
“It’s so painful…”
“I don’t deserve to live.”
I was sobbing uncontrollably.
My trembling hands turned through the pages of her increasingly disjointed and scrawled notes.
Every page was filled with her self-loathing and hatred.
Only on the second-to-last page did she write:
“God, do I really not deserve to live?”
Tears blurred my vision as the flames grew, consuming everything around me.
I turned to the last page of the diary.
Apart from a few torn scraps, it was empty.
What did Emmy write in the end?
I figured I’d soon find out when I could ask her in person, after death.