- 5.
David fell to his knees before my grave. He
swept the offerings off the makeshift altar,
throwing my photo to the ground. “This is
another act! A lie! Hannah can’t be dead!” He
frantically dug at the fresh earth, uncovering
my urn. He picked it up, his eyes vacant, tears
finally gone. Mom watched him, her voice filled with grief and anger. “Believe it now,
David? My daughter was dying in the hospital,
bleeding out, and you took every drop of her
blood type for your precious Emily! She died
on the operating table! You never visited her
once while she was alive, and now you
desecrate her grave! What did my daughter
<
do to deserve this? To deserve you?” Her
words, laced with tears, were daggers to his
heart. Finally, the reality of my death crushed
him. He bowed before my grave, begging for
forgiveness. But what good was it now? It
was just to ease his own guilt. Mom tossed
the divorce papers at him. “David, the dead
can’t sign papers. My daughter is gone. But
consider this our divorce. Do what you want.
We’re done with you. Leave us alone.” She
turned to leave, but David scrambled after
her. “No! Hannah promised… she promised
to be with me forever! You can’t let her break
that promise!” His words took me back to our
wedding day, me holding his hand, promising
to make him the happiest man alive. How
hollow those vows sounded now. We were
separated by death, and he clung to a broken promise. “You gave her nothing, and you
demand she keep a promise? Don’t you see
<
how ridiculous you are?” Mom shook him off,
walking away without a backward glance. I
watched David kneeling there, a strange
sadness washing over me. He looked so lost,
so broken. Just like I had on that operating
table. His secretary approached, holding out a
phone. “Mr. Walker, it’s Ms. Carter.” David
didn’t react, so the secretary answered. “Ms.
Carter? Is there something I can help you
with?” “David? My heart… it’s hurting
again… Put him on.” The secretary looked at
David, then handed him the phone. “Mr.
Walker, Ms. Carter says she’s in pain. She
wants to speak with you.” To my surprise,
David didn’t rush to her side as he always did.
He remained motionless. Emily, hearing no
response, became more frantic. “David? The
doctors said… I don’t have much time… Are
you going to leave me like this?” Finally,
David spoke. “Go see Emily,” he told his
<
secretary. “I… I need to stay here with
Hannah.” A wave of sadness washed over me.
Why, even in death, did his fleeting moments
of kindness still affect me? I’d lived on scraps
of his love, and even now, it held me captive.
This was the first time David had ever refused
Emily. I imagined her panic, mirroring my own the day she’d returned. I laughed, a hollow sound. We were the same, both living on
borrowed love, both devastated by its
absence. Emily pleaded with him, begging him to come, but David didn’t respond. Finally, the line went dead. The secretary sighed and left. David knelt by my grave, pouring out his grief, guilt, and regret. As if in answer, rain began
to fall, soaking the earth. He held my urn close. Some people only learn to cherish what they had after it’s gone.
