The Evening Wind Never Promises the Sunset, Free to Come and Go

The day before my engagement to Victor James, my best friend Crystal Pruitt was in a car accident.

When she woke up, she thought Victor was her fianc.

The doctor said she couldn't be subjected to any shock.

So Victor postponed the wedding and stayed by her side as her boyfriend.

He told me: Once she recovers, we'll get married.

And I believed him.

I went from being his fiance to a girlfriend who couldn't see the light of day.

Until today, when Crystal's memory results finally came back.

I thought this whole farce was over at last.

But when I pushed open the door to her room.

Crystal was on her toes, straightening Victor's tie.

Victor was leaning down slightly, letting her get close.

The whole thing looked natural, like they'd done it a hundred times before.

When she saw me, Crystal snatched her hands back.

"Sorry... I just did it out of habit."

In that moment, I suddenly understood.

The one who got her memory back was Crystal.

The one who couldn't come back was Victor.

...

From the room to the parking lot, none of the three of us said a word.

The report confirming Crystal's recovery was still clutched in Victor's hand.

It should have been the happy ending everyone wanted, yet not one of us could manage a smile.

I pressed my nails into my palm and tried to break the silence.

"To celebrate Crystal getting her memory back, why don't we go buy a cake? That place we always go to."

That bakery was one we'd found in the first year Victor and I were together.

After that, on every anniversary, every birthday, even just passing by, he'd take my hand and lead me inside, smiling.

"Etta, every day with you is worth celebrating."

But this whole year.

Without him beside me, I never set foot in there again.

"Let's not."

Victor barely hesitated.

"Crys doesn't like the cream there, she thinks it's too rich. And the doctor said her diet should stay light for now, since she just recovered."

Even as he spoke, he was already opening the car door for her.

"She was talking about that upscale restaurant on the South Side a couple days ago. Let's go there."

I went still for a beat.

So it turned out.

He didn't just remember what Crystal didn't like.

He remembered every offhand thing she'd said she wanted to eat, right down to the last word.

While they talked, Crystal had already slid into the passenger seat out of habit.

Halfway down, she caught herself, went pale, and grabbed the door to push herself back up.

"Sorry... I forgot, this is your seat."

She moved to get out.

But Victor reached over and held her down, his brow creasing slightly.

"It's fine, don't fuss."

"The seat, the backrest, the headrest are all set the way you like them. Adjusting them all back now is too much trouble."

He bent down, straightened her seatbelt for her, and only then finally lifted his head to look at me.

His voice was as gentle as ever.

"Etta, you sit in the back for now, okay?"

I looked at him and said nothing.

After a while, I gave a small nod.

The instant I pulled open the back door, I froze.

The cedarwood scent that used to fill the car was gone.

In its place was a peach smell, sweet to the point of cloying.

And stuck to the dash in front of the passenger seat was a pink sticker.

Girlfriend's seat.

I stared at those two words, my eyes stinging.

Victor followed my gaze, his expression unbothered.

"Crys threw a fit until I let her put it there."

"She said it made her feel more secure, so I never peeled it off."

Secure.

Three light little words.

Yet they sank in like a splinter, leaving my chest raw.

A year ago.

When Crystal first lost her memory, she was fiercely possessive.

She wouldn't let any girl near Victor, and she certainly wouldn't let anyone else ride in his car.

Victor could only wait until she was asleep, sneak downstairs to hold me, and soothe me over and over.

"Etta, hold on a little longer."

"She's just sick. Once she recovers, I promise I'll give you the grandest wedding of all."

I lived off those brief five-minute hugs and made it through an entire year.

But it wasn't until today that I realized.

What I'd lent out was never just a passenger seat.

It was Victor's heart, tilting toward Crystal a little more each day.

The car pulled slowly out of the hospital.

The whole way.

They talked about the art exhibit they'd gone to together last month.

About the restaurant they'd eaten at a few days ago.

About the inside jokes only the two of them could understand.

I curled up in the back seat, like a ghost that had drifted in out of nowhere.

My phone buzzed. A new email from my advisor.

Loretta Bishop, the fully funded overseas doctoral position at Thornton University this year is extremely limited. The entire department only has one spot.

I hope you'll reconsider and let me know your decision as soon as possible.

Staring at the email on my phone, I couldn't pull myself back for a long time.

The day my advisor first reached out to me, Victor was with me choosing a wedding dress.

Back then, all I could think about was becoming his wife, and without a second thought I turned the offer down.

I never imagined one car accident would leave everything the same and yet nothing the same.

The car rolled to a stop outside the upscale restaurant on the South Side.

I pushed the door open, and the early-autumn night air hit me.

I wrapped my arms around myself and shivered.

Before, in a moment like this, Victor would have been the first to reach over and pull me close.

But this time he took off his black coat and draped it, without hesitation, over Crystal's shoulders.

"It's windy out. Don't catch a chill."

He straightened her collar, the motion easy and practiced.

Only after that did he seem to remember I was there too.

"There's a blanket in the trunk. Grab it if you're cold."

I stood there a second, then just answered quietly, "Okay."

We had barely stepped inside.

The owner came over to greet us, warm as ever.

"Mr. James, brought your girlfriend again?"

He glanced at the three of us, then added with a smile,

"But the usual spot only seats two, so I'll pull up an extra chair for you."

"Oh, and the prize from the couples' challenge just came in too."

As he spoke he took a box out from behind the counter.

"Your girlfriend wasn't feeling well that day, and you carried her out in such a hurry you never took it."

Victor visibly stiffened.

He looked at me on instinct and started to speak.

But Crystal gave his sleeve a light tug.

Just that one small motion. She didn't even need to say anything, and every explanation he had was stopped in his throat.

And Victor didn't let go of her hand.

Inside the box was an instant photo and a pair of rings.

In the picture, Victor and Crystal wore the matching rings and made a heart with their fingers.

He'd turned his head to look at her.

The tenderness in his eyes that had once been mine alone was resting on Crystal's face.

Something turned over in my stomach, and before either of them could react I turned and all but fled to the restroom.

Cold water against my face washed away the damp warmth.

I had always thought that once Crystal got her memory back, everything would go back to where it started.

It turned out the only one still standing in that place was me.

I came around the corner and Victor was already there.

He reached out to take my hand, and I pulled away without thinking.

I lifted my eyes to him and finally couldn't hold it in, my voice shaking hard.

"Our wedding. How much longer do we have to wait?"

He was silent a moment, then in the end he said,

"She still needs time to adjust."

That line again.

In one year.

I'd heard it more times than I could count.

And I finally understood.

It wasn't that Crystal needed to adjust to a life without Victor.

It was that Victor had already adjusted to a life with Crystal.

I glanced at that chair squeezed into the corner, so out of place.

Then I lowered my head and looked at the couple's charm on his phone, matching Crystal's.

The joy I'd felt when I first got the checkup report was gone completely.

"Never mind. You two eat. I'm going home to get my things."

The extra one was never that chair.

It was me.

I stood in front of that familiar door.

I drew in a deep breath and pressed my thumb to the fingerprint lock.

The lock beeped its mechanical rejection.

I froze, then switched to the keypad.

My birthday, Victor's birthday, the day we became a couple

Each wrong-password tone drove me deeper into a block of ice.

Until the alarm went off, and a neighbor leaned out, staring at me like something was wrong.

The humiliation came in cold, cutting waves.

I closed my eyes for a moment, then slowly keyed in Crystal's birthday.

The door opened.

I clenched my teeth and pushed it wide.

Then stopped dead the instant I took in the room.

This had once been my wedding home with Victor.

From the color of the floors to the style of the curtains to every piece of furniture in the living room.

All of it chosen bit by bit around what I liked.

But now.

On the shoe cabinet sat a photo of the two of them.

On the dining table, a matching pair of cups, one blue, one pink.

On the balcony hung Crystal's lace nightgown.

The home that had once belonged only to us.

Everywhere I looked, it was buried in the traces of the life they shared.

My gaze traveled to the end of the hallway.

That room Victor had locked with his own hands.

I still remembered the day we did the renovation.

He'd wrapped his arms around me from behind, his voice full of longing.

"When the baby's born, this will be his room."

"We'll paint the walls that creamy yellow you love, all right?"

Back then, I believed we really would have a family.

But later.

The day I learned Crystal had been in the accident, I was so frightened I fell to the ground, and I lost the baby I hadn't even carried to term.

For a while after, I nearly fell apart.

Victor held me as I cried myself hoarse, his eyes red as he promised:

"I'll keep this room just as it is, until the baby comes back. No one touches anything in here."

But now, that door stood half open.

I pushed the door open with shaking hands.

The little clothes I'd sewn by hand. The baby shoes I'd bought.

The crib Victor had put together piece by piece.

All of it was gone.

In its place stood Crystal's easel and a table covered in paint.

I tore through the room like something had come apart in me, searching for any proof the baby had ever existed.

Until my foot knocked over the brush-water bucket in the corner, and a soaked memory album spilled out with the dirty water.

I'd made it the day I found out I was pregnant, working on it for two full weeks, every line drawn by hand.

Inside was the first ultrasound photo, a record of every kick.

On the opening page were the words Victor had written to our child by hand.

Baby, Mommy and Daddy can't wait for you to get here.

Once, he'd held this album and kissed my forehead. "Etta, you and the baby are the most precious gifts I have."

But now this album, the one that carried all our love and hope, was so stained with paint you couldn't tell what it used to be.

I held the soaked album against me, shaking all over and unable to stop.

"What are you doing?"

Victor's voice came from behind me.

I whipped around.

He and Crystal stood in the doorway.

When he saw the album in my arms, his face changed.

The next second, out of habit, he moved Crystal behind him.

I couldn't even bring myself to care about that anymore. All I could think of was the baby soaking in that filthy water, and the rage of it.

"Victor."

I looked at him, tears falling and refusing to stop, a whole year of swallowed grief breaking loose at once.

"Who threw it out?!"

Victor lowered his head, avoiding my eyes, silent for a few seconds before he spoke.

"I did."

Two words.

And they shattered the last shred of hope I'd been holding on to.

"Why?"

"Crystal got into that accident swerving to avoid a pregnant woman. I didn't want to upset her."

He said it like it was the most reasonable thing in the world, a different man entirely from the one who'd once waited for our baby with such joy.

Then Victor seemed to finally notice how pale my face had gone, and his tone softened.

"Have you forgotten? Crystal only got hurt because of us, after all."

"Once she's fully adjusted, we can have another child then. All right?"

I looked at him, my vision blurring more and more.

How could I forget.

If Crystal hadn't been in that accident bringing me my wedding veil, she never would have lost her memory.

I never would have handed Victor over to her with my own hands, never would have had to slip away from everyone just to hold him for five minutes.

But watching Victor shield Crystal like it was the only natural thing to do, I suddenly found the whole thing absurd, almost laughable.

Maybe the accident was only the opening that let the right two people find each other.

I stopped demanding answers. I just lowered my head and replied to my advisor's email: confirming my application.

Then I gathered the ruined album into my arms, little by little.

The way you'd hold the child who never got the chance to be born.

Passing through the living room, I slipped the bracelet off my wrist.

It was the one Victor's mother had put on me herself, the first time she met me.

Every time the hurt had grown almost too much to bear, I'd catch myself touching that bracelet on my wrist.

But now I set it down on the coffee table.

The jade bracelet gave a soft, clear chime.

Victor's face changed in an instant.

"Loretta, what are you doing?"

He stepped forward, reaching to take my arm.

I didn't answer.

I only moved my arm out of his reach, lifted my head, and took one last look at the home that had once been ours.

My voice was calm, without a single ripple.

"Victor, there's no need to wait for her to adjust anymore."

"Our wedding is off."