ManyWriters

Three years of marriage shattered.
My husband, for the sake of pure love, forced me to have an abortion and get divorced.
I nearly died on the operating table.
Three years later, he had an accident, his memory frozen at the year he loved me most.
He pursued me fiercely but failed, then asked me for one last embrace.
After the embrace, he died in a car accident.
I received his letter.
He wrote:
"Aria, I hate him."

Husband Nearly Killed Me On the Operating Table

He finally realized what he had missed, what he had destroyed.


Young and successful, his mind was filled with dreams of the future, afraid that slowing down would mean missing out on even more glorious sights ahead.


For me and everything in the past, I was merely a footnote on his path forward.


But with one bout of amnesia, his story returned to the beginning. Now, as he picked up the forgotten past, he was forced to reexamine every moment.


He remembered his former self, carefully cradling me, and also recalled the self that shattered it all with his own hands.


He opened his mouth to apologize, but my hatred had long since been worn away by time.


"Everett, you finally admit what you owe me."


"But apologies are useless. What's past can't be brought back."


The last time I saw Everett was on a certain afternoon.


Chapter 8