Unwritten Spring Unending Sorrow

The next day, I woke up in the hospital, aching all over.

The Wells family's private doctor was speaking, "Mrs. Wells, you're awake. The nanny found you in the kennel this morning and brought you here. You've got a high fever, so make sure to rest up today."

I tried to sit up, my voice raspy and weak.

"Where's Mr. Wells?" I asked.

"Ms. Brooks has a game today, and Mr. Wells escorted her," came the reply.

"Did he mention me at all?"

The family doctor just shook his head, no.

Last night, as the typhoon howled outside, even the dog found shelter in a cozy, warm house.

Me? I was practically living in a kennel to keep from freezing.

A lump formed in my throat.

I grabbed my phone from the nightstand and called Tracy Wells. "Tracy, I'm sorry, but I can't be with Thomas anymore."

It was shortly after I had graduated from college that Tracy showed up out of the blue.

She wanted to introduce me to someone.

The second I laid eyes on Thomas, my heart skipped a beat. I knew him instantly—the boy who had braved a raging fire to save me.

Tracy explained that Thomas had been in a car accident and it had left him with mental scars. He did not trust anyone.

She said she was his sister, that she had been nothing but kind and loving to him, but he still treated her like an enemy.

She wanted me to marry him, to be by his side and help him heal.

Just as she had predicted, the debt of gratitude I owed him for saving my life made me love him with all my heart.

The thought of marrying him filled me with warmth in a world that had turned bleak.

When Thomas first saw me, his face lit up with a curious smile at my blushing cheeks.

He even said he wanted to marry me.

Before our big day, he could not have been sweeter.

His gentle gaze made me fall for him over and over.

However, on the first night after our wedding, the dream I had been living in came crashing down.

Thomas's gaze was menacing as he gripped my neck, pinning me down on the bed.

"Rebecca! You haven't even apologized for bumping into me, and now you have the nerve to marry into my life!" he snarled. "You wish I were dead? Just wait and see how I'll 'take care' of you from now on."

I gasped for air, my struggles futile. I wanted to scream that it was not me who had crashed into him, but it would not matter.

Thomas never believed a word I said. He was convinced I was the one responsible for his car accident, and that belief turned our marriage into a living hell.

Five years of love, five miscarriages, and endless heartache from the women he paraded before me. I was exhausted, drained of the will to fight any longer.

Tracy had been keeping an eye on me for five years, witnessing the scars that marred my body and soul. Then, she finally saw the truth. "Rebecca, I know all the terrible things Thomas has done to you. He's not worth it.

"If you want to leave, I'll help you. It's my fault you're in this mess... you should never have had to endure this," she said through tears. Her words made me cry silently.

After the call, I wasted no time in booking a flight abroad for the following week. It felt like years of tension melted away in that moment.

However, then, Thomas's call interrupted my brief respite. "Rebecca, get to Chloe's dance party immediately. I'm texting you the address. There's something I need you to do."

I quickly got dressed and hailed a cab. I figured I might as well play along one last time before I left.

At the venue, Chloe was in the makeup room, her skilled hands crafting a flawless look.

She was a ballet dancer, her makeup as perfect as her pirouettes, a sharp contrast to my worn-out, pale reflection in the mirror.

She pursed her lips, tugging at Thomas's shoulder. "Thomas, Rebecca's still limping. Isn't it a bit much to make her come all this way?"

"Don't worry about her," he said with a dismissive wave. "She's as tough as they come—she once carried a sack of sand as heavy as a full-grown person."

After high school, to scrape together my college tuition, I actually hauled sandbags for a month.

"Wow, Rebecca must be pretty strong."

Thomas caressed Chloe's hair with a tenderness that did not reach his eyes as he turned to me. "Chloe hurt her ankle in her last performance. Today, you're taking her place."

Slipping into the ballet dress I had not worn in ages, the white fabric hugged my body, a ghost of the past. I remembered how I had learned that Thomas liked girls who danced ballet. I practiced until I fell over and over, all to master the dance that might catch his eye.

I even dressed to his tastes, all for that chance to make him fall for me the moment we met.