Time's River Flows to Sea; We Finally Part Ways

A few men grinned as they tore the clothes off me.

My fianc and my best friend sat at the mouth of the alley, eating ice cream.

I fought with everything I had, my nails dragging bloody streaks down the wall, screaming Daniel Delgado's name over and over.

But he never moved.

He even scooped up a spoonful of ice cream and lifted it, slow and easy, to Theresa Swanson's lips.

Only when I had cried until I couldn't breathe, until my voice had gone raw and gone,

did those men finally let go of me.

Daniel came forward with a smile and helped my limp body up off the ground.

"Tessa just got her master's in psychology from overseas. She says the only way to fully desensitize you is to recreate the trauma."

Three months ago, when I went to bring Daniel some documents, a few men dragged me into that same alley.

I've had severe depression ever since.

The sound of a man laughing makes me shake.

Night after night I jerk awake from nightmares, and the only way I can prove to myself I've escaped that nightmare is to hurt myself.

Seeing me sitting on the ground with my face streaked in tears, Theresa gave Daniel's arm a little shake and smiled, pleased with herself.

"See? Shock therapy really does work."

"She went through something this intense and didn't cut herself again. That means the self-destructive urges are already easing."

Daniel let out a visible breath of relief.

"You really do know what you're doing."

They looked at each other and smiled.

As if the two of them had truly cured me together.

I looked down at my bloody fingertips, and suddenly I was smiling too.

That night, brilliant fireworks spread across the surface of the river.

Alone, I walked up onto the bridge where Daniel had once proposed to me, and I threw myself off.

The freezing river water rushed into my nose and mouth in an instant.

Just as my consciousness was slipping away, Daniel grabbed my arm and fought to push me back up above the water.

When I opened my eyes again, I was lying on the bank.

The moment Daniel saw me breathing again, the fear in his eyes turned to fury.

"If you wanted to swim, why not go to a pool?"

"Running into the river in the middle of the night, do you have any idea how dangerous that is?"

"What if I hadn't seen you? What then?"

Theresa walked over, wearing Daniel's jacket.

She patted her chest, still shaken.

"Thank god Daniel was here setting off fireworks for me tonight."

"Otherwise, this late, no one would have seen you fall into the river at all."

I followed her gaze.

Across the river, the fireworks still hadn't ended.

Golden bursts of light rose into the night sky in cluster after cluster, mirrored back on the churning surface of the water.

So while I was desperate enough to give up my own life, Daniel had been down by the river on a date, alone with Theresa.

The instant the fireworks burst open again, I suddenly thought of two years ago.

Daniel had proposed to me on this same riverbank.

That night, he'd prepared a sky full of fireworks too.

The light lit up his face as he went down on one knee in front of me, so nervous he could barely hold the ring steady.

"Maya Coleman, I'm going to work to make you the happiest person in the world."

His vow was so sincere back then.

I reached out my hand, crying, certain I finally had someone who would never abandon me.

But just now, in that alley,

I screamed his name over and over until my voice gave out.

And he stood only a few steps away, watching calmly as I fell back into the nightmare.

And now, in the very place where he'd proposed to me, he'd set off the same grand display of fireworks for another woman.

Theresa stood over me, a big armful of Juliet roses cradled against her chest.

The petals layered on top of each other, and in the dark they looked especially beautiful.

Three years into our relationship, I had once stood outside a florist's window and looked at these same flowers.

Daniel had asked if I liked them.

I nodded.

But the moment he saw the price, his brow creased.

"A single bouquet costs tens of thousands, and it withers in a few days."

"Maya, don't waste money on something this meaningless."

After that, every Valentine's Day, he only ever gave me the most ordinary red roses.

And I kept telling myself.

What matters in a gift is the thought. Price doesn't measure feeling.

It wasn't until today that I understood.

It wasn't that Daniel found these flowers meaningless.

He just found it meaningless to give them to me.

Theresa stroked the petals lightly and asked me with a smile,

"Pretty, aren't they?"

"I mentioned them offhand once when I was abroad. I never thought Daniel would remember all this time."

Daniel's face turned visibly awkward.

"Maya, don't read too much into it."

"Theresa turned down her work abroad to come back and help you."

"The fireworks and the flowers today, that's just me thanking her on your behalf."

Theresa jumped in at once, smiling.

"Exactly. We're best friends. How could I ever steal your fianc?"

"Daniel was so worried you'd misunderstand, he wouldn't even use the same spoon as me for the ice cream just now."

But I had seen it clearly.

Back in that alley, Daniel had scooped up a spoonful of ice cream with his own hand and slowly fed it into her mouth.

How many times, exactly, had they shared the same spoon.

How much closeness had there been that I never knew about.

Probably only the two of them knew.

I opened my mouth, but before any sound came out.

The final round of fireworks shot up into the night sky.

Countless golden sparks slowly formed a line of words.

Theresa, welcome home.

Daniel's so-called thanks on my behalf became a joke in an instant.

Theresa tipped her head back to watch the fireworks, her eyes curved with a smile as she leaned into Daniel.

"We only meant for the two of us to see it."

"I never expected Maya would catch it too."

Daniel didn't push her away.

He only tossed the blanket onto me.

"You're in poor health. Stop imagining things."

Wrapped in that cold blanket, watching the two of them stand side by side under the fireworks, I suddenly understood everything.

Three months ago, I was trapped in that alley, and I never walked out of the nightmare again.

But Daniel had long since started a new life with someone else.

And that someone happened to be the best friend I'd grown up with since childhood.

On the drive back, I sat alone in the back seat, wrapped in that soaked blanket.

Theresa rode up front, cradling the Juliet roses.

Daniel had the heater turned all the way up.

The warm air had barely reached my frozen fingertips when Theresa complained in that sweet little voice of hers:

"It's too hot. The petals will wilt."

Daniel shut the heater off at once.

"We'll get you a new vase when we're home."

I was soaked through, my teeth chattering so hard I couldn't stop them.

He glanced at me in the rearview mirror.

"Just hang on a little longer. We're almost there."

Not one petal of the flowers in Theresa's arms could be allowed to suffer.

And me, having just been pulled out of the river with my life, I could stand to be cold a while longer. It didn't matter.

Once we were home, I locked myself in the bathroom.

The moment the hot water hit my shoulders, I could still feel those hands pressed against me.

Rough palms, slick with sweat, sliding up from my calves inch by inch.

Every stroke deliberately slow.

They had pinned me to the cold wall and laughed against my ear:

"Scream louder."

"Nice body on this one. Real smooth to the touch."

That sickening feeling clung to my skin like filth that wouldn't wash off.

I scrubbed at my body, hard.

Until my shoulders, my neck, my arms were all raw and red, until blood beaded up, and still I felt those hands hadn't left.

My phone started buzzing, one message after another.

A dozen came flooding in at once.

Coworkers, classmates, even people I hadn't spoken to in years, all sending the same video link.

The title read:

A Psychology Master's Case Study: Confronting a Trauma Patient With Her Fear, and at Last She Stops Self-Harming.

The account that posted it was Theresa's.

In a single night, the views had already passed three million.

In the video, three men dragged me into an alley.

Their faces were all buried under thick blurring.

Mine was clear enough to see the tears.

The camera caught every second of the men's hands moving over my body.

It caught my collar yanked down past my shoulder, baring a stretch of pale skin, my skirt riding up as I struggled.

Off-camera, Theresa narrated in a calm voice:

"The subject continues to call out her fianc's name. A textbook case of dependent distress."

"At this stage the therapist must not offer comfort rashly, or it will reinforce her pathological dependence."

The comments were all praising her.

Ms. Swanson is so professional. A patient like that would've driven me crazy long ago.

The actors didn't actually touch her. Crying that hard is way too dramatic.

Her fianc's such a good guy, marrying a mental case and still standing by her through treatment.

Her clothes aren't even all the way off. Guess the therapy wasn't thorough enough? Need the full version.

Someone recognized my face and posted my name and where I worked in the comments.

A coworker asked me, treading carefully:

Is that really you in the video?

The whole work group chat is passing it around now.

I ran out of the bathroom clutching my phone.

Theresa was sitting in the living room, excitedly refreshing the view count.

When she saw me, she smiled and held up her phone.

"Maya, guess what?"

"My advisor's seen it."

"He says this case has real research value. A genuine reaction is worth so much more than the theory in the textbooks."

I stared her down.

"Take it down."

"Those men were all blurred out."

I pointed at the screen, my voice shaking, and I couldn't stop it.

"Why am I the only one who isn't?"

Theresa explained it like it was obvious:

"Your facial expressions are crucial data for observing trauma response."

"If I blurred you out, how would anyone see the treatment working?"

I almost laughed from sheer fury.

"Did I say you could film it?"

"Did I say you could put any of this online?"

The living room went quiet.

Daniel finally set his phone down.

"I agreed to it on your behalf."

I stared at him, dazed.

He came over and, the way he used to soothe me, gently took hold of my shoulders.

"Maya, you're not stable right now. A lot of your decisions aren't rational."

"You give up a little privacy, and millions of people get to understand this illness. That counts for something meaningful."

Just then, HR from the company called.

They informed me, delicately, that clients had already come across the video and were worried my mental state would affect my work.

Until the outcry died down, the company wanted me to stay on leave.

After the call ended, I didn't speak for a long time.

Theresa gave a soft little sigh.

"You can always find another job."

"Miss this chance at treatment, and you might never get out of it, not for the rest of your life."

Daniel nodded too.

"The most important thing for you right now is getting better."

"It's not like I can't afford to support you. Don't make things hard for Theresa over something this small."

Something this small.

My dignity, my job, and the nightmare I'd fought so desperately to forget.

In his eyes, they were all just something this small.

I said nothing more. I only wiped the tears off my face and walked out the door in a daze.

Behind me, Daniel started to come after me, but Theresa caught him by the wrist.

"Let her cool off on her own. You go running after her to coax her every time. When is she ever going to learn to control her emotions?"

"Honestly, even as her best friend, I can't stand to watch her go on like this."

The instant the door closed, I heard something in my chest.

Quietly, without a sound, break apart.

It was past midnight when I got back to my parents' place.

Mom was sitting in the living room, Theresa's uploaded video playing on her phone.

She saw me, and she didn't ask where I'd been, or why my clothes were still soaked through.

She just killed the screen fast, her face pinched, and complained.

"It's all over the family group chat."

"You bawling like that. How are your dad and I supposed to show our faces after this?"

I stood in the doorway, my lips white with cold.

"Mom."

"I don't want to marry Daniel anymore."

Mom shot to her feet.

"What's gotten into you now?"

"He gets someone to treat your illness, and this is how you repay him, by calling off the engagement?"

"Theresa has a master's in psychology from overseas. Daniel did all this for your sake. How can you not tell right from wrong?"

Every muscle in me went rigid.

Mom kept on going.

"Besides, you were already ruined a long time ago. You're not clean anymore."

"Daniel didn't hold it against you. He's still willing to marry you. That's more than decent of him."

"You break it off with him now, and what normal man is ever going to take you on?"

Take me on.

So in Mom's eyes, I'd already become a soiled thing.

Daniel was willing to have me, so I should be down on my knees with gratitude.

I clamped my hands over my ears, and it felt like a thousand needles driving into my skull at once.

"Mom, stop it"

"Why should I stop?"

Mom wrenched my hands away.

"You're a grown woman. You still need the whole world revolving around your sickness?"

"You're the one who walked down that alley at night. You're the one carrying on about wanting to die every single day."

"You get yourself into trouble, and the whole family has to eat the shame with you. Who are we supposed to complain to?"

I stared at her, dazed.

Even Mom had forgotten.

That night three months ago, Daniel had called out of the blue, asking me to bring a bid document to a hotel.

The meeting was half an hour from starting.

He was so panicked his voice had changed.

"Maya, this document decides whether the company survives or not."

"I can't get away right now. You're the only one I can ask."

A storm was pouring down outside, and there wasn't a car to be had.

Afraid I'd hold up his project, I clutched the document and ran three streets.

To save time, I cut through that alley.

Later, Daniel won the project on the strength of that document, and the company pulled through its crisis because of it.

But no one remembered why I'd been in that alley, at that exact hour, in the first place.

They only remembered that I'd been ruined.

That from then on I'd turned into a burden, fragile, giving everyone no peace.

Mom was still talking.

"Look how good Daniel's been to you."

"Those months you were in the hospital, he never left your side, didn't even change out of his clothes. He stopped going to the company altogether."

"You don't cherish a man like that, and one day you'll regret it."

Was Daniel good to me?

He really was.

The first night after it happened, I wouldn't let anyone near me.

So he sat two meters from the hospital bed and kept watch the whole night through.

Later, I was afraid to shower alone.

So he sat outside the bathroom door and talked to me.

I wouldn't turn off the lights, so he swapped every bulb in the house for warm ones and stayed awake with me all night, eyes open.

Once I jolted awake in the middle of the night and shoved him off the bed, out of control.

He split the corner of his forehead open, and he didn't blame me.

He just sat there on the floor, smiling at me through the pain.

"It's all right."

"It's all right if you never get better. I'll stay with you."

Back then, he truly held me in the palm of his hand.

So when Theresa said she wanted to treat me, I trusted them both without holding anything back.

But yesterday, in that alley.

It was this same man, who once asked my permission even for a hug, who let a few strangers put their hands inside my clothes.

Who agreed, on my behalf, to Theresa releasing that video.

His patience had lasted three months.

My nightmare might follow me the rest of my life.

The phone suddenly lit up.

Theresa had posted an update.

First solo treatment, a complete success. Someone said I'd worked so hard he's rewarding me with a sunrise on the mountaintop.

In the photo, Daniel was kneeling on one knee in front of her, head bowed, tying her shoelace.

A tent was pitched behind them.

String lights, champagne, a bonfire. They'd made the bare mountaintop romantic and warm.

Mom leaned in for a look, and something like satisfaction crossed her face.

"What a lovely girl Theresa is."

"Educated, capable, and such a bright personality on top of it."

"She gave up her job overseas just to treat you, and all you know how to do is cause her trouble."

She paused, then sighed.

"Honestly, if only Theresa were my daughter."

"At least she wouldn't be like you, making the whole family hang its head in shame."

In that instant, every voice crowded into my head at once.

"Scream louder."

"So what if you sacrifice a little privacy?"

"You've been unclean for a long time now."

"If only Theresa were my daughter."

I clamped my hands hard over my head.

But the voices only got louder.

Those clammy hands seemed to press against my body again, crawling slowly over every inch of my skin.

I scrubbed at my arms, frantic, not stopping even when my nails tore the skin.

"Stop talking"

"Please, I'm begging you, stop"

But Mom only frowned, impatient.

"Here we go again."

"Daniel's put up with you this long, and you still don't know when you're well off."

"Call him right now and apologize."

"Get down off your high horse. Beg him if you have to, but get that wedding back on."

Then, all at once, I couldn't hear.

The screaming, the laughter, the sobbing churning through my head all went quiet in that moment.

I lowered my hands, turned, and walked toward the balcony.

The railing was already loose, and the wind of the eighteenth floor came straight at my face.

Mom was still nagging behind me.

"Did you hear me?"

"You call Daniel right now."

Since Daniel already had someone he'd rather protect.

And Mom already had a daughter she'd rather have.

Then I shouldn't exist anymore.

Not until my body dropped into the dark did Mom's endless voice finally stop.

Behind me there was only one shrill scream.

"Maya!"