His Regret, Her Grave

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I forgot my engagement ring. Bring it over. Now.

The phone vibrated against my palm like an angry hornet. Soren.

The day Soren got engaged was the same day the doctor handed me my death sentence. He used to tell me that the only way to clear my ledger, to truly pay him back for everything, was to die.

I gripped the diagnosis paperwork until my knuckles turned white. A dry laugh bubbled up in my throat.

"Congratulations, Soren," I whispered into the receiver. "Youre finally getting what you want. Debt paid in full."

Chapter 1

Where are you? Left the ring in the drawer. Bring it.

When I didnt pick up, the text notifications started piling up on my screen. I ignored them.

I dragged my feet to the convenience store around the corner, digging through the bottom shelf until I found a bag of those old-fashioned creamy milk candies.

The winter sun hit my face outside. Cold air, warm light. I unwrapped a candy and popped it in my mouth. The sugar hit my tongue, cloying and thick. Suddenly, I was back in the village. Grandma Edith digging a candy out of her pocket, her skin like parchment paper.

"Rue, have some candy. Sweet things chase the pain away."

I squeezed the diagnosis sheet in my hand. Grandma, what do I do now? This time, the sugar isn't working. It still hurts. From the moment I walked away from that house, my life has tasted like nothing but bitterness.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

The phone wouldn't stop screaming. I slid the bar to answer.

"Rue! Where the hell are you? Are you doing this on purpose?" He paused, the silence heavy with arrogance. "Don't tell me you're still in love with me. Is that it? You trying to sabotage my wedding?"

It felt like a physical blow to the chest. If he hadn't said it, I might have forgotten we ever had a past. That I ever loved him.

"Soren." My voice was flat. Dead. "I quit."

"Get someone else to fetch your ring. Im not coming to the engagement party."

Black spots danced in the corners of my vision. I squeezed my eyes shut to stop the world from spinning.

"Have a happy wedding."

Let's never see each other again.

He was still shouting something on the other end, but the sound turned into a dull roar. I hung up.

I turned around and nearly bumped into Riley. She had just come off her shift, still wearing her scrubs.

"What are you doing here?" She tried to smile, but the corners of her mouth twitched. It looked more like a grimace.

I forced a grin. "Waiting for you. Figured I should treat the new Head Nurse to dinner."

Ive spent enough time in this hospital to watch Riley go from a nervous rookie to a wife, to a mother, and now, the boss. She was the closest thing I had to a friend.

"I want spicy wings," I said. "The really greasy kind."

She looked at me like I was insane. "Patients don't eat junk like that!"

"Don't food shame," I countered, leaning against the wall for support. "All calories are created equal."

She ignored me and dragged me to a quiet private bistro instead. Before the menus even hit the table, a tear slid down her cheek.

"Grandma Edith used to say sighing at the dinner table chases away good fortune." I grabbed a napkin and dabbed at her face. "Crying is definitely bad luck."

She snatched the napkin away and held out her hand, palm up. "Give me the report, Rue."

I waved her off, leaning back in the chair. "You're off the clock. Your dedication is terrifying, really."

She looked ready to scream, her chest heaving. I cut her off before she could start.

"Besides, you know the drill. Its always the same result."

My parents. My little sister, Eve. All the same. A genetic time bomb.

Terminal.

I sent them off, one by one. And now, finally, its my turn.

Chapter 2

I dropped Riley off at her place. She lingered on the porch, her hand resting on the doorframe, eyes searching mine.

"You know you need to be admitted, right? Like, yesterday."

I hated that look. The pity. It felt heavier than the sickness.

"I know. Don't worry about it." I forced a wave, watching her disappear inside.

But sitting around a sterile room waiting to die? That isn't living. Not for me.

I pulled out my phone and booked a one-way ticket to the Swiss Alps. The Matterhorn in winter. It was the one thing Id always promised myself Id see. A bucket list dream of frozen silence and white peaks. I needed to see it. One last beautiful thing before I closed my eyes forever.

But the universe loves a cruel joke. Before I could chase my dream, I had to face my nightmare.

"Nice of you to finally show up."

Soren.

He was leaning against my doorframe, a graveyard of cigarette butts at his feet. He looked like hed been waiting for hours.

"Last time I checked, this is my apartment." I tightened my grip on my keys, blocking the entrance. "You're not coming in."

Sorens jaw worked, a muscle feathering under his skin. "Where were you? Why didn't you bring the ring?"

He took a step forward. Then another.

I retreated until my heels hit the edge of the stairwell. Nowhere left to go. I shoved my hands against his chest.

"That's not in my job description."

Two years as his personal assistant. I handled his billion-dollar mergers and his dry cleaning. I wasn't just an employee. I was a slave paying off an invisible debt that never seemed to shrink.

He sneered, catching my wrist. "Right. Your job description is strictly romancing the boss to steal trade secrets, isn't it?"

My blood turned to slush.

Soren didn't blink. He reached into my bag, fished out my keys, and unlocked the door. He dragged me inside, kicking the door shut behind us. I scrambled back, putting the kitchen island between us.

"You got engaged today, Soren."

He lunged, closing the gap. His fingers dug into my arm, yanking me flush against his hard chest.

"The engagement is off," he hissed. "Because someone decided not to show up with the ring."

He dipped his head, his lips brushing the shell of my ear. The heat of his breath sent a shiver down my spinehalf fear, half twisted muscle memory.

"Add it to the tab, Rue. You just dug yourself a deeper hole."

He was too close. His scentexpensive cologne and stale tobaccoinvaded my lungs. My senses scrambled. I shoved at him, desperate for air.

"Soren" I snarled, wishing I could rip a chunk out of him just to see him bleed.

His eyes narrowed, sensing my defiance. He opened his mouth to retort, but a sound shattered the tension.

BANG. BANG. BANG.

The pounding echoed through the dark apartment like a death knell. My heart hammered against my ribs. I wrenched my arm free from Sorens grip and stumbled to the door. I threw it open.

The impact was instant.

CRACK.

My head snapped to the side. My cheek burned like it had been branded with a hot iron.

I cupped my face, blinking away the shock, the metallic taste of blood in my mouth.

Standing in the hallway, chest heaving and eyes wild, was Margot.

Chapter 3

Soren uncoiled from his slouch, rising with a lethal sort of grace. He ignored Margot completely, grabbing my wrist and inspecting the angry red welt blooming on my cheek.

He finally turned to her. His voice was bored, dangerous. "What are you doing?"

Margot stood there, her perfect makeup ruined by tears, eyes rimmed red. "You canceled the engagement party for her?"

She jabbed a manicured finger at my chest, her voice cracking. "I am your fiance, Soren! How is she better than me?"

I clenched my hands into fists at my sides, staring at the floor. I couldn't look her in the eye. I didn't have the right.

"Shes nothing but a gold digger! She only stayed for the money! Have you forgotten what she did back then"

"Enough."

Soren didn't shout. He didn't have to. The single word dropped the temperature in the room by ten degrees. Margot choked on her next sentence, the fire in her eyes turning to terrified resentment. If looks could flay skin from bone, I would be a skeleton.

Soren gripped Margots arm and marched her out the door. A moment later, he was back.

He reached out, his thumb grazing the swelling on my face. "Ice that. You're already past your prime, Rue. Don't let your face get ruined, too."

I slapped his hand away. "Get out."

His jaw tightened. He stared at me, analyzing, calculating. "I'll pick you up for work tomorrow."

I kept my head down, studying the grain of the wood floor. "Bosses don't chauffeur their assistants. I'll be there on time."

Soren was right about one thing. I was a liar. A world-class fraud.

He hesitated, hand on the doorknob. The silence stretched, thick and heavy.

"See you tomorrow."

I forced the words through a constricted throat. "See you tomorrow."

Lie.

We wouldn't see each other tomorrow. If everything went to plan, we wouldn't see each other ever again.

I didn't sleep. I rebooked my ticket for the red-eye.

I didn't exhale until the engines roared to life and gravity pinned me against the seat. As the plane pierced the clouds, the city lights below faded into nothing. Darkness outside the window. I stared into it, imagining the jagged white peaks of the Alps waiting for me.

Exhaustion finally dragged me under. The dream was vivid. Technicolor. Every fragment of memory was stained with Soren.

"Don't move. The light is perfect."

That was Soren three years ago. Obsessed with sketching me in every city we visited.

"The view is boring, Rue. You're the only thing worth looking at."

The scene shifted.

"Too bitter," he grimaced, tasting his black coffee. He looked at me, eyes crinkling. "But you you're my sugar. Stick with me, Rue. I'll make sure your life is nothing but sweet."

The scene shifted again. Two years ago.

The first snow of the year. We stood in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse, the city below dusted in white powder. It was quiet. Just us.

"When the payout from this deal comes through, take it as my betrothal gift. Let's get married."

He turned to me, silhouetted against the winter sky.

"Will you marry me, Rue?"

In the dream, tears streamed down my face. I stood there, trapped in that perfect, frozen moment, and whispered the same answer I gave him then.

"Yes."

I blinked. Soren vanished. The snow vanished.

My eyes snapped open. Pitch black. The hum of the cabin air pressure. I touched my face. Wet.

I was back in reality. A reality without light.

The man in the dream was dead. The past was a ghost. And ghosts don't come back.

Chapter 4

I checked into a chalet nestled in the valley. The owner was a girl named Poppy, a ball of kinetic energy who decided we were best friends the moment I walked through the door.

"You picked the perfect escape," she chirped, hauling my luggage with surprising strength. "Good mountains, good views, good people. Its the trifecta."

Watching her bustle around, fluffing pillows and straightening rugs, a sharp pang hit my chest. She reminded me of my best friend back in the village. Death has a funny way of making you sentimental. Suddenly, I had this violent urge to go home. To see the people who knew me before.

But I was here. And I had a mission.

I needed to see the Alpenglowthe sun setting the snowy peaks on fire. I needed to feel that brilliant, blinding light on my face one last time.

"I call this place 'Poppy's Haven'," she said, pouring two glasses of cheap wine. "I want my guests to feel safe. Happy. That's the code I live by."

She told me her dream was to franchise, to open Havens all across the country. She turned those big, bright eyes on me, brimming with a hope that was almost painful to look at.

"What about you? What's your wish?"

I took the glass from her. The rim was cold against my lip. I took a slow sip, letting the burn settle in my stomach.

"I wish for your wish to come true."

My wish? The question rattled around in my skull.

As a kid, I just wanted my parents to come home more than once a year. Then, I wanted to grow up fast enough to carry the weight of the family so they didn't have to. Then, I begged the universe not to take Eve. Please, not my sister. Take anything else.

People talk about guardian angels or a God that listens. They're liars. If there was a God, he left me on read a long time ago.

Why do my wishes always turn to dust?

Midnight.

I made the mistake of turning my phone on. It vibrated so hard it nearly slid off the table. The screen lit up like a slot machine. Soren.

Missed calls: Soren.

Messages: 99+.

Texts: Soren.

I stared at the screen, the blue light flickering in the dark room. It felt like looking at a distant star. You can see the light, but its cold. Dead. Untouchable.

I hovered my finger over the glass, trembling, tracing the letters of his name without touching them.

Poppy was sprawled on the other sofa, gloriously wasted. She cracked one eye open. "You gonna answer that? Someone you hate?"

I gauged her sobriety. She looked about three seconds away from passing out.

"I want to answer," I whispered, the admission tasting like bile. "Im terrified to answer. Hes someone I want to see, but someone I can never see again."

Poppy scrunched her nose, her brow furrowing as she tried to process the logic. "That's heavy. That is way above my pay grade."

I reached over and patted her shoulder. "Go to sleep, Poppy. We have a sunrise to catch."

The sky outside began to turn the color of a bruised peach. Dawn. I realized I hadn't closed my eyes once.

That's when it hit me. I was greedy.

I didn't want to die. I wanted to hoard every second, every breath, every photon of light I had left.

An hour later, an alarm screamed through the chalet. Poppy stumbled out of her room, a mess of tangled hair and regret. She grabbed her coat, looking like she was marching to her execution.

"I am never drinking again," she groaned. "Let's go."

Chapter 5

I smiled. She immediately launched into a frantic defense, swearing she wasn't actually an alcoholic.

I smiled wider. She was adorable. She possessed the kind of chaotic, vibrant energy that made you want to lean closer just to steal some of the warmth.

"Look! The sunrise!"

We hadn't even made it to the cable car yet, but the peak was already ablaze. Gold light spilled over the jagged white summit, bleeding into the sky.

I stared at it, and my throat tightened. A sudden, sharp pressure built behind my eyes.

Sunrise. Hope. The start of something. Everything I wasn't.

"They say if you see the Golden Summit, you get good luck," Poppy chirped, nudging my arm. "Even if you don't have a wish for yourself, pray for your family. Maybe the Mountain Spirits are soft-hearted today. Maybe they're listening."

I mimicked her posture, closing my eyes against the blinding glare.

If there is a God up there

Let Soren be happy.

Let him be happy enough to outweigh the misery I caused him.

Take my life as the wager. Pay him out in joy. Every last cent.

I didn't stay at Poppys Haven long.

"You're leaving already?" Poppy's face fell. "But there's so much cool stuff we haven't done! I can be your tour guide!"

I wanted to reach out and squeeze her shoulder, but I stopped myself. I felt like a contagion. I didn't want to stain her brightness with my decay.

Poppy didn't care about personal boundaries. She stepped forward and wrapped me in a bone-crushing hug.

"Next time you come, I'm giving you the family discount!" She slapped her chest, promising with all the solemnity of a knight.

I nodded. "Deal."

If there is a next time.

As I walked out, I couldn't help but look back. She was standing in the doorway, waving her arm off, a grin splitting her face.

I didn't tell her I made a second wish on that mountain. I wished for her dreams to come true.

Stay happy, Poppy. Forever.

I bought a ticket home.

I wanted to go back to the village. Roots. I wanted to die in the creaky bed in my childhood room, surrounded by familiar ghosts.

I failed.

Because Soren was waiting for me.

He didn't ask. He didn't negotiate. He intercepted me at the transit hub like a federal agent. He dragged me back to the city, shoved me into the hospital, and forced a full-body workup.

When the report came back, he took it. He didn't speak. He just sat on a bench outside the hospital wing and smoked for four hours straight.

I sat on the far end of the corridor, swearing to protect my lungs from secondhand smoke. The irony wasn't lost on me.

Riley was exercising her rights as a friend by giving me the silent treatment.

Knock. Knock.

I rapped my knuckles on her desk. "I was only gone for two days. Are you really going to freeze me out?"

She buried her face in her paperwork, ignoring me completely. I waited. The silence stretched until it snapped.

"You don't get it," she said. Her voice was terrifyingly calm.

"Of course I don't. You won't tell me."

"You all smile at me," she whispered, her pen shaking in her hand. "You say you know. You say not to worry. And then, a second later, you die."

Her composure shattered. Her eyes turned red, tears spilling over before she could blink them back.

"Why" She choked on a sob. "Why am I always the one sending my friends away?"

I froze.

I can handle anger. I can handle hate. But a girl crying because she cares too much? That cripples me.

"I'm sorry," I said, my voice soft. "I'm really sorry."

Chapter 6

I was admitted within the hour.

The Executive Suite. Soren didn't just drop me off; he stood guard like a warden until the nurses had the IV line taped to the back of my hand. The room felt heavy. Suffocating. Everyone who knew I was dying seemed to be carrying a hundred-pound weight on their chest, while I just felt light.

I tried to break the tension. "Don't you have a conglomerate to run? Stocks to trade?"

Bad move.

Soren ignited instantly. He spun around, eyes blazing. "Rue! You lied to me. Again."

He took a step toward the bed, then froze. His fists clenched at his sides. He smelled like an ashtraystale tobacco and stressand he knew it. He wouldn't let the smoke get near me.

"Why" His voice cracked, the anger bleeding into something raw. "Why is it always lies with you?"

I sat against the pillows, watching him hover by the window. He wasn't wrong. I was a professional liar. From the very beginning.

I faked the obsession. I faked the loyalty. I faked the undying love. I sold him a fantasy so he would trust me, protect me, let me in. And then I shattered it.

We were both staring at the wreckage now, and it was too ugly to look at.

"Rue, you are truly"

He cut himself off.

I looked up. Soren wasn't yelling anymore. He was crying.

Silent, angry tears tracked through the stubble on his jaw. He didn't wipe them away.

A strange dissociation washed over me. It felt like I was attending my own funeral. Everyone I met was weeping. Am I already dead? Is this the afterlife?

I made a mental note for my will: Put a sign on my casket. NO CRYING ALLOWED.

Soren refused to leave.

I couldn't exactly kick him out. He was the reason I was in a suite that cost more than my annual salary. He was paying for the meds, the doctors, the sheets.

I tried to offer my credit card once. He just looked at me with a silence so cold it felt like a physical slap. I put the card away.

I wanted to ask him: Does this balance the ledger? If I die on your dime, are we finally even?

But Sorens silence had teeth lately. I didn't dare poke the beast.

During the day, I finally bullied him into going to the office.

"I don't need a death watch, Soren," I told him. "Waking up to you staring at me like a statue makes me feel like Ive already crossed over."

He slammed the door so hard the window panes rattled in their frames.

Peace at last.

I drifted into a heavy, drug-induced sleep. When I woke up, the room was dim. The sun had gone down.

There was a silhouette sitting in the chair where Soren usually kept his vigil. But the posture was wrong. The energy was sharper. Malicious.

A voice slithered out of the shadows, cold enough to freeze the blood in my veins.

"Long time no see, Rue."

Chapter 7