Twenty Years Too Late: She Begs Me Now

She lifted her head and looked at me through her tears.

"Mick, I regret it so much. Twenty years ago I should have listened to you. With a community college degree, I hit a wall everywhere I looked for work. All I could get was cleaning jobs, the dirty, exhausting kind."

"And him!"

Kirsten pointed at Jude, who was standing there smoking. "Before I married him, he promised he'd work hard and take care of me. But after the wedding, all he did was drink or go out playing cards with a pack of good-for-nothing friends."

"When he ran out of money he'd come to me for it, and when I wouldn't give it to him, he'd hit me. He's beaten me until there isn't a single part of me left unbruised."

As she spoke, she pushed up her sleeve, baring the scars and the purple-black marks on her arm.

My pupils contracted, and something in my chest twisted hard. But it lasted only an instant before I was calm again.

She chose this road herself. Having chosen it, she had to live with where it led.

"Mick."

Kirsten clutched at the leg of my trousers, her pale face streaked with tears.

"You're the only one who can save me now. I swear, from now on I'll stay by your side forever, always. I'll do anything you say."

I shook my head and pried her fingers loose one by one. "Kirsten, I can't help you, and I won't help you."

"Do you remember what you said to me twenty years ago? That there was nothing left between us."

"Today, I'm giving those same words back to you."

With that, I turned and started toward the door.

"No! Mick, you can't be this heartless to me."

Kirsten's cry rose behind me, and then Jude's cursing followed. "Shameless piece of trash. He thinks you're used goods, he doesn't want you."

"Hand over the money you made today, or I'll beat you to death."

My steps stopped. In the end, I didn't look back.

Kirsten was Kirsten. I was me.

Twenty years ago she had cut the bond between us with her own hands.

Even so, it still cast a shadow over the welcome dinner that evening.

Seeing that I was in low spirits, Roderick asked, "Did something happen?"

I was about to shake my head when a wave of reporters suddenly poured in, jostling their way up to me, their microphones nearly shoved into my face.

"Mr. Lyons, after more than twenty years, are you still unable to let go of that old love?"

"Mr. Lyons, is Ms. Henson the reason you came back to the country this time?"

"Mr. Lyons, Ms. Henson is already married. Are you trying to come between her and her husband?"

"Mr. Lyons—"

"—"

The questions came one after another, and I stood frozen. Then, as if I'd sensed something, I turned sharply toward the corner of the banquet hall.

Kirsten was still in her cleaning uniform from that afternoon, and the look in her eyes was pure hatred.

She mouthed the words at me:

"If you won't save me, I'll drag you down to hell with me!"