When the Coldness Ends, the Wind Bids Farewell

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I was running a fever of 104, and my boyfriend, who was about to head downstairs to buy medicine, suddenly stopped in his tracks.

Actually, when I said I couldn't do it, I was lying to you.

For my whole life, I'll only ever do it with Lucretia.

Because everything about her revolves around me.

And youyou're always ordering me around. I'm not like your boyfriend, I'm like your lapdog.

After saying that, he opened the door and walked out.

All that was left in the room was the cough I couldn't swallow down.

So it turned out that three years without sex was him keeping himself chaste for someone else.

The way he'd gladly handled everything for me was really the reluctant behavior of a lapdog.

After a long while, I opened my secondary social media account and typed out each word.

That's it, then. Let's end it here.

I don't know how much time passed, but my head hurt more and more.

I went down to the pharmacy and grabbed a few boxes of fever reducer.

When I swiped my insurance card, it showed insufficient balance.

I tapped into the insurance card account.

I froze for a moment.

The most recent charge was an hour ago.

Condoms.

Strawberry flavored.

"It's nice to be young. Your boyfriend comes here all the time to buy that stuffseveral boxes at a time."

"But you've got a fever, so you really should take it easy."

"It's fine. Her boyfriend buys allergy medicine, cotton swabs, dental floss, everything. He's so thorough."

"You're a lucky girl."

The two women at the pharmacy covered their mouths and giggled.

But I never had allergies, and I never used dental floss.

As the world spun around me, a sour, bitter taste rose up in my throat.

I couldn't help doubling over and gagging.

Nauseating.

So nauseating.

I forced myself home, took the medicine, and lay in bed, but my hand opened the insurance card statement without my meaning to.

Three days ago, at seven in the evening, one box.

That day, he said he'd eaten too much and wanted to go downstairs for a walk.

"How can I take care of my little princess if I don't keep myself healthy?"

He kissed the top of my head and told me to stay home like a good girl.

Two weeks ago, three boxesgrape, strawberry, banana.

He said the company had scheduled a three-day business trip.

"Your Highness the Princess, once I close this deal, I'll be one step closer to marrying you!"

When I saw him to the door, what was I thinking?

He works so hard.

He loves me so much.

Unsurprisingly, the deal fell through.

I couldn't bear to see him so down, so I sold my camera and took him on a trip.

Heh.

I couldn't help ittwo laughs pushed their way up out of my chest.

So stupid.

Suddenly, my finger stopped on a date.

Three months ago.

Two boxes.

I remembered that day clearly. The roof downstairs was leaking, and that man forced his way into my apartment to check.

He never found the leak, but he still trashed the place into a total mess.

I called my boyfriend, crying.

On the other end, he was breathing a little heavily.

"Baby, I'm sorry, I'm just too busy, I can't come back."

I didn't want to bother him, so I held back my emotions and quickly hung up.

I never heard the panting of a man and a woman tangled together on the other end.

My finger slid down mechanically.

The list of charges that went on and onevery single one of them mocking me.

Three years.

Every time I needed him, every business trip, even every time I went out alone.

He was always tangled up with some other woman.

I was just like a joke.

My head hurt more and more, like I might lose consciousness the next second.

I opened the dialer.

The emergency contact was George Delgado.

I lowered my eyes and dialed 911.

He was no longer someone I could trust.

Pain wracked my whole body, mixed with cold sweat, and every breath hurt.

Just like when I was a child, I tried to curl myself up on the bed.

Still, I couldn't help thinking back to before.

George pursued me for half a year.

He remembered I loved sweets, and he'd take me to try every trending dessert.

I was afraid of thunder, so on stormy nights he'd wait downstairs outside my building all night.

In a crowd, I was always the first person his eyes went to.

On the day he confessed, he stood in the middle of heart-shaped candles, holding roses, waiting for me.

"Nellie, will you be my girlfriend?"

He knelt on the ground and reached out his hand to me.

But it turned out that the man who once knelt on one knee and swore to be my knight for life...

Had abandoned me long ago.

Tears slid down into my hair, cold enough to chill me all over.

"Hello! Is this the place that called 911?"

The knock at the door and my phone rang at the same time.

My awareness was almost giving out, and my hand shook as I answered the call.

"It's here. The door lock code is 1012."

"That code doesn't work. Did you remember it wrong?"

Wrong?

George said that once we got married, he'd change the code to our wedding anniversary.

October 12th, a day I would remember all my life.

How could it be wrong?

The paramedic entered it again.

Still wrong.

I struggled to prop myself up, trying to get out of bed and open the door, but I suddenly crashed to the floor.

The fall left my vision black, and all I could do was sprawl there on the ground.

I tried to crawl toward the door, but I couldn't find the strength.

"What's wrong? Are you okay?"

The paramedic's anxious voice came from the door.

I gritted my teeth, gathered my strength, turned to reach my phone, and called George.

On the fifteenth call, he finally picked up.

George's lazy voice came through.

"What is it, my princess?"

"What did you change the door lock code to?"

I asked through gritted teeth.

George laughed. "October 13th. The day Lucretia and I slept together for the first time."

As if that weren't enough, he added one more line.

"Oh, and our place? We've done it everywhere in it a long time ago."

My breathing suddenly turned ragged, my phone dropped to the floor with a thud, and everything in front of me went dark.

So many things from memory suddenly became clear.

The tissues that turned up on the bed weren't proof that he'd taken care of himself out of love for me.

The sewing needle that suddenly appeared inside the pillow wasn't the seller's oversight.

The stains that inexplicably showed up on my underwear weren't from not washing properly.

He'd known all along.

But he only ever said I was overthinking it.

He indulged Lucretia and kept me blind.

So the strange taste in the milk before bed was real.

The moans I heard from next door, half asleep, half awake, were real too.

Only his love for me was the lie.

My world sank completely into darkness.

As my consciousness surfaced from the haze, the smell of disinfectant filled my nose.

"You're awake?"

George was leisurely peeling an apple, asking me in that gentle voice.

My mind was foggy.

The mockery from the two of them on the phone still circled through my head.

"Why."

A hoarse, calm voice came out of my mouth.

Why did you lie to me?

And why did you let me find out?

Why would you do this to me?

George's hands paused for a moment.

"Because."

"You're too stupid."

"I love you so much that I couldn't bear to have you early. I wanted to save something beautiful for our wedding night."

Then George suddenly burst out laughing.

"You actually believed that kind of stupid nonsense? Hahahaha!"

The next second, his expression turned vicious.

"Who do you think you are, that you deserve to be cradled like a princess by me?"

"Your own parents threw you away, and a lowly mongrel who fights a dog for scraps actually managed to fool me!"

"I really thought your sunny innocence was real."

"These three years of betrayalthat's your punishment."

"You had no idea, did you?"

George opened his eyes wide, leaning close with an exaggerated smile on his lips.

"Every time I did it with Lucretia at home, I'd make her put on your clothes, kneel in front of me, and call me master."

"You only deserve to be a dog I lead around in circles!"

George's laughter drilled through my eardrums, overlapping with my younger brother's laughter in my memory.

"Haha, the mongrel's fighting a dog for food, how funny, so funny!"

In that moment, it was like I had gone back to my childhood.

The childhood of nothing but leftovers, chores that never ended, and curses I couldn't escape.

Grandma and my uncle and aunt would say it with twisted facesthat I wasn't worthy.

A burden nobody wanted, a curse, a mongrel.

Not worthy of a seat at the table. Not worthy of clothes to cover my body.

Not worthy of living in the house, not worthy of a kind look from my family.

And not worthy of anyone's sincerity, not worthy of being anyone's favorite.

I really was stupid.

I thought that once I escaped that house, everything from before would just be the past.

I thought that as long as I wanted it, I could be a sunny, hopeful child, a child someone could love.

But it was all an illusion.

I was obsessed with wanting to be someone's favorite.

To prove that I was worthy.

Worthy of being loved, worthy of the sunshine, worthy of being a person with dignity.

So I grabbed the hand George held out to me.

I thought I had grasped a love that was mine alone.

But the truth was

I had handed George the dagger that was aimed at me, with my own hands.

And then I was stabbed until nothing was left whole.

I forced my eyes open and squeezed out a sentence.

"Why don't you keep lying to me?"

My heart was hollow, but there were no tears.

It seemed like they couldn't come anymore.

George gave a contemptuous sneer.

"Because you're too stupid."

"So many clues, and you didn't notice a single one in three years."

"I'm getting a little bored of this game."

"But I have to admitlying there on the bed with your face all pale, you really do look like a dead dog."

As he spoke, he finished peeling the apple in his hand.

Just like always, he neatly cut off a piece and held it to my lips.

Speaking cruel words with a gentle expression.

So this was who he really was.

I looked at him.

Then calmly turned my head, avoiding the piece of apple.

Thunk!

The fruit knife stabbed through the apple and buried itself in the bedside table.

George suddenly stood up, pinching my chin, forcing my head back straight.

"You won't look at me?"

"From the moment you took my hand, you've belonged to me for the rest of your life."

"Want to run? Keep dreaming!"

His words, spoken through gritted teeth, seemed to carry a cold menace.

I looked into his eyes, bloodshot with rage.

One word at a time.

"I want to break up."

"Heh, break up?"

George gently stroked my face.

"You want to break up with me just because I slept with someone else and not you?"

"You want to get laid that badly? Is that what you want? You slut!"

He pronounced my verdict with absolute finality.

Just like my grandmother and my uncle.

Bastard.

Slut.

But I had escaped that "home" a long time ago.

I work hard to support myself, and I gave real love in my relationships.

I did nothing wrong.

I've taken good care of myself.

I am not a bastard.

And I am not a slut.

Maybe it was my calm gaze that set George off.

He ripped out the IV needle, ignoring the beads of blood on my hand, and dragged me to the car.

Everything was spinning, and I couldn't even manage to call for help.

"Don't you want to get laid? I'll give you what you want!"

Eyes bloodshot, George ran one red light after another.

I was thrown back and forth in the car, and I secretly slipped my hand inside my clothes and found the phone I had hidden back in the hospital room.

George gripped my arm, and when we got home, he threw me into the bathroom.

I slumped weakly to the floor.

George picked up the showerhead and poured it down over my head.

The freezing water made me shiver all over, and I couldn't stop coughing.

"Didn't you want to get laid? Let me wash you up first!"

My sorry state amused George, and he smiled with pleasure.

"Look, without me to protect you, you've gone from a dead dog to a drowned rat."

"Nellie, say you won't break up, and I'll forgive you."

"I'll sleep with you, and I'll love you just like before."

"Say it! Say you won't break up!"

George was like a madman.

He tore me down, yet he couldn't bear to let me go.

My uncle and the rest of them forced me to stay home and do the chores.

But him?

Why was he so furious?

I curled up in the corner, trying to ignore the needle-sharp headache, forcing myself to stay conscious.

Crack!

George slammed the showerhead onto the floor, then came over and hauled me up.

"Why won't you talk? You still want to leave, don't you? You're mine! I didn't agree to let you go!"

"I'll give you what you want right now!"

He shoved me hard onto the bed and tore at my already flimsy hospital gown.

I clutched at the collar and stared hard at George.

He'd hidden it so well.

Right now, I couldn't find a single trace of the gentle boyfriend from before on him.

It made me even more certain.

Every bit of concern he'd ever shown me was fake.

"You really disgust me."

I said it with a sigh.

George's movements froze.

"As much as I loved you a day ago, that's how much you disgust me now."

"I never denied my past, but you kept hiding your true face."

"You don't deserve my honesty, and you don't deserve my love."

By the time I finished those few simple sentences, my voice was completely hoarse.

George finally snapped back to himself.

He lowered his head and suddenly started taking off his clothes.

"You're just saying that out of spite. You're angry that I never really made you my girlfriend."

He stripped off his jacket in one smooth motion and pulled me over to the window.

"I'll make everyone see that you're mine."

Then, slowly but with brutal force, he pried my hands away and peeled off my clothes piece by piece.

I fought back with everything I had, and in the middle of the struggle, I thought I heard someone knocking at the door.

I drew up my legs, and then kicked out as hard as I could.

"Agh!"

George doubled over, his face flushed red as he looked up at me.

The noise outside the door grew louder.

"I told you, George, you're not worthy."

George tried to get up, but I had already opened the window and sat on the ledge.

"What are you doing! Get back here!"

George's face went tense at once. Ignoring the pain, he got up and slowly edged toward me.

I looked at him once.

Then I turned and jumped from the windowsill.

"Nellie!"

George and the group of people behind him rushed to the windowsill.

But they grabbed nothing but air.