“Lol, my queen, the most beautiful and kind. Please, forgive me,” he would say.
This time was no different. He turned and started walking toward the guest room.
But there had never been a day when I forgave him again.
Just as he reached the door, he hesitated and turned back. He stood beside the bed, leaned down and kissed my forehead.
“Don’t be petty,” he said. “Althea is about to die. My wedding with her is just a formality.”
He continued, “Next month, I’ll marry you. Our wedding will be the grandest in the city and you’ll be the most beautiful bride in the world.”
My soul floated beside him, hearing his empty promises. I broke down and screamed, “Look at me! I’m already dead! The bride you’re talking about is gone!”
“The man who once ran out into a storm to buy me medicine when I sneezed, how can you not realize I’ve died right in front of you?” I cried out.
But he couldn’t hear a word. He tucked the blanket around me and said, “Why are you so cold? Cover yourself up properly so you don’t catch a cold.”
The following day, the doorbell rang. It was Althea.
Her eyes were swollen as if she had been crying for a long time.
“What’s wrong?” Darius asked.