Rift 139_The Abandoned Wife's Second Chance

(Scarlett’s POV)

 +25 Points

 Chloe helps me make the soup. I spoon a small bowl for Lily, blowing gently on the top.

 She takes a tentative sip, her eyes widening slightly at the familiar taste. She eats slowly, deliberately, the simple act of nourishing her body working its magic.

 “How is he really?” Chloe suddenly asks.

 “Stable, but unconscious,” I answer. “The doctors don’t know when he’ll wake up.”

 She nods, understanding the unspoken truth. He might not wake up at all. <fn4195> The source of th?s content is f?ndnovel</fn4195>

 “I should go,” she says. “Let you two have some time together. But I’m just a phone call away, okay?”

 “Thank you for staying with her. For taking care of her when I couldn’t.”

 “That’s what family is for.” She hugs me tightly. “Try to get some sleep.”

 I nod. After Chloe leaves, Lily finishes thest spoonful of her.

 I run a warm bath and help her wash away the stress of the day. She’s quiéter now, more subdued, and I can see the exhaustion creeping in around her eyes.

 “Mama?” she says as I help her into her pajamas. “Can I sleep with you tonight?”

 “Of course, baby.”

 I kiss her forehead and tuck her in beside me, her small warm body afort against the cold fear that’s taken up residence in my chest.

 “Mama?” she calls just as I reach out to turn off themp. “I’m not sleepy yet. Can you Mr. Hopscotch?”

 find

 Mr. Hopscotch. The stuffed bunny I bought her when she was two. She hasn’t asked for it in months.

 “Of course, sweetheart. I’ll look for him.“.

 go to her room and search through her toy chest first, then move to the closet where we keep outgrown clothes and forgotten treasures. Mr. Hopscotch isn’t in any of his usual hiding spots.

 < Chapter 139

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 Maybe he’s in my bedroom? Sometimes Lily carries him around the apartment and leaves him in random ces.

 I’m digging through the boxes under my bed when my fingers brush against something familiar. A worn leather journal with my initials embossed on the cover.

 My college diary.

 I haven’t looked at this in years. Didn’t even remember packing it when I moved out of James and ir’s house.

 I sit back on my heels, turning the journal over in my hands. The leather is soft and supple from years of handling, and when I open it, the pages smell like vani and sandalwood.

 The first entry is dated September 15th, my freshman year:

 Started college today. Everything is so overwhelming, but also exciting. I think I’m going to love it 

 here.

 I flip through the pages, watching my handwriting evolve from the careful script of an eighteen–year–old to the hurried scrawl of someone trying to capture every moment of a busy

 life.

 And then I see his name for the first time:

 October 3rd- Met someone today. Jasper ke. He works at the campus coffee shop, and he has the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen. Probably way out of my league, but a girl can dream.

 A smile tugs at my lips despite everything. I was so young, so hopeful. Sopletely smitten with a boy who barely knew I existed.

 I keep reading, following the progression of our rtionship through my neen–year–old

 eyes:

 October 28th – He remembered my order today! Vani <itte with extra foam. Maybe I’m not as invisible as I thought. 

 November 15th – Asked him if he wanted to study together. He said yes! We’re meeting at the library tomorrow. I can barely contain my excitement.

 December 2nd – First job! I didn’t know he also had another job. He works at a bar outside campus. I wanted to spend more time with him, so I got a job where he works! 

 The entries be longer, more detailed, as our rtionship deepened. I read about our first official date, our first fight, the first time he called me beautiful.

 (

 < Chapter 139

 But it’s one particr entry that stops me cold:

 E

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 March 14th- Today was perfect. Jasper waited in line for TWO HOURS to get me that new ice cream vor everyone’s talking about the </ivender honey one that sold out everywhere. Two hours! In the cold! Just because I mentioned wanting to try it. When I asked him why, he just shrugged and said, “Because it made you smile.” I don’t think I’ve ever felt so loved in my entire 

 life.

 I remember that day. Remember how surprised I was when he showed up on campus with the ice cream, how he yed it off like it was no big deal. But he’d waited in line for two

 hours. For me.

 My fingers trace the faded ink, and I can almost see him as he was then–young and proud and determined to make me happy, even if it meant standing in the cold for half the afternoon.

 I turn the page and find another memory:

 April 7th – There was a fire in the chemistry building today. Not serious, but enough to set off all the rms and fill the halls with smoke. Everyone was running and screaming, and I got separated from my <ib partner. I was so scared, crouched in a corner while sirens wailed outside. But then Jasper found me. He was the first one to find me. He wrapped his jacket around me and carried me out of the building like I weighed nothing. Got a nasty burn on his arm from a hot door handle, but he wouldn’t let the paramedics look at it until he knew I was okay. The scar is still there–a jagged line from his wrist to his elbow. My hero’s badge, he jokes.

 The scar. I haven’t thought about that scar in years, but I can picture it perfectly. He used to trace his finger along it sometimes when we were lying in bed, telling me it was worth it because it meant I was safe.

 More memories flood back as I read:

 May 22nd – Jasper surprised me with a pic for our six–month anniversary. He made all my favorite foods (well, tried to make them–the sandwiches were a little lopsided and the brownies were slightly burnt, but it was perfect). We talked about the future, about what we wanted after graduation. He said he wanted to build something together, something <isting. I’ve never been happier. 

 June 18th – Last night, Jasper told me he wanted to marry me someday. Not now, while we’re still in school, but someday. He said I was the only woman he could ever imagine spending his life with. I think my heart actually stopped beating for a moment. Is it possible to be this happy? 

 Tears blur my vision. This was us. This was who we used to be–young and hopeful and sopletely devoted to each other that the rest of the world didn’t matter.

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 What happened to us? How did we go from this perfect love story to two broken people who couldn’t even be in the same room without hurting each other?

 “Mama?” Lily’s voice drifts from her bedroom. “Did you find Mr. Hopscotch?”

 I wipe my eyes and close the diary. “Still looking, sweetheart!”

 But I can’t stop thinking about what I just read. About the boy who waited two hours in the cold for ice cream, who carried me out of a burning building, who dreamed of building a life

 with me.

 That boy is lying in a hospital bed right now, fighting for his life because he saved mine.

 And despite everything that went wrong between us, despite all the pain and betrayal and bitter words, I realize something that shakes me to my core:

 I still love him.

 Not the man he became, twisted by pride and Virginia’s maniption. But the young man he used to be. The man who might still be buried somewhere underneath all the lies and the disappointments and the fear.

 If he dies…I’ll never be able to live with myself.

 M

 Violet Moon

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Rift 139