The Reasons You Never Finished, Save Them Forever

We were out riding on our trip, and the girl traveling with me and I both went down off our horses.

At the hospital, the doctor looked at the raw gashes on our legs and shook his head.

These need stitches. There may be scarring.

My heart sank and I said nothing. But the girl suddenly burst into tears.

"No! I'm terrified of needles, I want my husband here!"

At that I lowered my head and looked at the dead-silent chat window on my phone. Something ached at the very tip of my heart, lodged there like a bone in my throat.

"Cliff, I fell off the horse. I'm pretty scared. Can you come?"

His answer was cold and put-upon.

"You're the one who wanted to take this trip. If something goes wrong, you should learn to handle it yourself."

"Work is busy. I don't have time to indulge you feeling sorry for yourself. Vanessa Henson, can you please try to understand the pressures I'm under?"

Eight years together, and Clifford always had an endless supply of pressures to point to.

Swapped his day off for overtime, and forgot to pick me up in a downpour.

Left on a last-minute business trip, and forgot I had a high fever and needed to get to a hospital.

I resented it, I blamed him for it, and he always explained: "I have my own life and my own career. The world can't revolve around you alone. Can you please understand the pressures of my work?"

So I was always understanding his pressures.

I used to think I could go on understanding forever. Right up until this moment.

He came rushing in, travel-worn, and pulled the crying girl hard into his arms, murmuring to calm her.

The man who'd just been pouring out all his hardships to me now stood clinging to someone else.

In that moment, I understood all at once. His hardships had run out long ago. Just not for me.

So for the rest of our lives let this be where we end it.

1.

My eyes went dull. I watched the two of them holding each other, and my heart felt like a huge hand had closed around it and squeezed the breath out.

Clifford let her go, bent down, and examined her injury carefully, brow drawn tight.

"Penny, I'm going to sue the tour company for negligent safety measures. I failed to protect you."

For an instant the girl broke into a smile, her tone petulant and spoiled.

"Lucky for me my husband is the best trial lawyer in Harborview! Otherwise there'd be no one to fight for me when I get hurt!"

Her words dropped straight into me, and my heart gave a violent shudder.

"Cliff! Why can't you help me file the case? You know that man was driving drunk, that's why my mother is dead!"

Back then he stood in front of me and calmly put the file back into my hands, untouched.

"Nessa, first, we need to avoid any conflict of interest, or it damages my reputation for fairness. Second, retaining me means booking a month in advance."

I dug my nails hard into my palms. It hurt, but not by a fraction of what was happening inside me.

So your world does make exceptions after all. Just never for me.

The girl got up, limping, and hooked her arm through mine, turning to him.

"Cliff, Nessa's hurt too. Help her file a case as well. She took care of me this whole trip!"

At that, the man lifted his eyes and met mine, and his words cut off short: "You really shouldn't leave yourself so unguarded with strangers"

In the silent room, we looked at each other. There was no love in it, only his hesitation and his flinching away.

"Nessa, this is my husband, Clifford Sanchez. Let me introduce you!"

The words caught in my throat, and I couldn't get them out.

Of course I knew him. He was my partner of eight years. And the girl he'd fallen for, I'd already come to know as well.

Penelope Swanson and I had met on this trip.

Innocent and carefree, blind to the world, she always laughed as she called out to me whenever something went wrong.

"Nessa! Disaster, total disaster, this dump of a guesthouse, the pipe in my room just burst!"

I'd give a helpless little laugh, bend down, and fix it for her, well-practiced. "You, you can't handle even the smallest thing. How do you manage day to day?"

She pouted, honestly puzzled. "My husband does all these little things for me. He says I don't need to know how, he'll take care of everything for me."

I looked at her, and something like envy stirred in me.

Back when we were first in love, Clifford used to take care of all my small daily troubles too. Later all that was left was that cold answer.

"I'm not a repairman. Am I supposed to drop a case to go fix your pipe? Can you not try to understand the pressures of my job?"

I looked at the two of them, so close, and gave a bitter laugh at myself.

My partner hadn't lost the ability to love. He just didn't love me anymore.

"No need. I'm going in for my stitches." I went around them and walked straight ahead.

The man's eyes settled on me again. His throat worked, but he said nothing.

The nurse said gently, "Miss Henson, the stitches are going to hurt. Don't you want to wait for your fianc to be here with you?"

I shook my head, my voice calm.

"No. We've broken up. He won't be coming."

As the words left me, something moved in his eyes, and he seemed about to speak.

I passed right by him.

In the ER, the doctor stitched my wound. Every pass of the needle through my flesh drove into my heart too.

I clenched my hands, bit down on my lip, fine sweat beading across my forehead.

Then a figure stepped up beside me and held out an arm, saying softly, "Nessa, if it hurts, bite down on me."

At the sound my heart trembled.

"Silly Nessa, I told you not to ride that bike yourself. If it hurts, bite down on me!"

That downpour years ago, when I couldn't get a cab and rode a bike through the rain to make it back for his birthday, and ended up crashing and in the ER.

Back then he'd looked at me with so much tenderness it hurt. Now he was still standing in front of me, and that trace of love in his eyes was simply gone.

I spoke, calm and numb.

"No. Clifford, people change. I'm not afraid of the pain anymore. Go be with her."

When the words landed, disbelief flickered in his eyes. Then he met my calm expression, and his voice softened.

"Nessa, about Penny, I can explain."

I turned my head to the side and didn't look at him.

"There's nothing to explain. Let's break up."

The corner of his mouth twitched, as if my words had caught in his throat.

Clifford leaned closer. The wind lifted the hem of his shirt and carried the scent on him into my nose.

Jasmine.

"Vanessa! This bottle of jasmine perfume is something my husband brought back from abroad on a business trip. Do you want a spritz? It smells amazing!"

"No, thanks. I don't like jasmine."

My conversation with Penelope was still surfacing in my mind when another memory suddenly cut in.

"You went to France on business and all you brought back was a bottle of perfume?"

"Mm. I passed a perfume shop with a coworker and picked it up on a whim."

"But I thought you didn't like wearing perfume"

I hadn't even finished back then before he brushed me off with work as his excuse.

So it turned out he'd made a special trip to get it for her. Not something picked up along the way.

He crouched down and took my hand.

For a moment it was like being back in the summer we were eighteen. The person hadn't changed, but the heart had.

"Nessa, I understand you're angry, but don't keep waving a breakup around like a weapon. We're not young anymore. A breakup does neither of us any good."

There was a faint laugh under his words, as if he were certain I'd come around.

But he was wrong. Giving him up wouldn't touch my future at all.

Five minutes before he arrived, I'd found a chat window that had gone quiet long ago and typed out one line.

"Do you still need a design director?"

After I sent it, I'd expected some hesitation on the other end, but the reply came fast.

"Of course. Ten times the salary, as promised. Welcome aboard."

I closed the chat window and booked a flight to Metropolis three days out.

In the past I stayed in Harborview for you, gave up too much of my own future. Now I've made up my mind to let you go, and to leave Harborview too.

In the quiet, a nurse's figure appeared. He abruptly let go of my hand and got to his feet.

"Did something happen with Penny?"

The nurse shook her head, out of breath. "No, it's just that Miss Swanson is making a fuss about being discharged. She says it's only a small injury and she's fine. Do you want to go check on her?"

Clifford took a quick step forward, then stopped short.

"Nessa, Penny's hurt badly. She needs me to look after her. I'm worried she'll do something reckless, so I'll go see her. I'll explain everything about her when I get home. Stop sulking at me."

With that, he left without a moment's hesitation. The nurse swept a silent glance over me, contempt in her eyes.

I stared at the raw, ugly gash on my leg, and my heart ached in waves.

When the horse went wild and out of control, Penelope had cried out in terror. "Vanessa, save me! I'm scared, I don't want to die!"

In that moment, the kindness in me told me I had to save her.

I fought to control the horse beneath me, gripped her reins hard with one hand, and the leather cut a bloody line into my palm.

I didn't fall from the horse until my strength gave out.

I shielded her under my body and said softly, "It's okay now."

Her injuries were nothing compared to mine, and yet in his eyes they were so serious he could throw me aside.

When someone doesn't love you, nothing you say matters.

Once the stitches were done, I decided to head back to Harborview early.

Before the bus started, I opened the social media feed I hadn't touched in ages and posted something.

Clifford and I have broken up. The wedding is off. Please spread the word.

I'd shut down my feed years ago because Clifford didn't like me showing off our relationship. Now it was finally good for something again.

The moment it went up, my best friend Evangeline Harding called, shouting at the top of her lungs.

Vanessa Henson! Have you lost your mind? You stuck it out with him all those years until he finally made it as Harborview's top lawyer, and now you want to break up?

I let out a quiet sigh and told her everything, start to finish.

The moment I finished, I thought I'd get her concern, her comfort. Instead her words came, and my heart felt like a knife had dragged across it, tearing me open beyond recognition.

You mean Penelope? Nessa, don't take this the wrong way, but every man slips up. It's not like he's marrying her. And Penny's actually a good person. Don't be so petty.

Her words landed and I froze.

Eva, you know her?

At that, she opened up like a floodgate and couldn't stop, every sentence dropping onto my heart like a stone.

Of course I know her. Penny and I met at an art show a while back. She's so sweet. I had cramps that day and she went out and bought me warm honey tea!

Oh, right, we all knew about the two of them, but nobody thought it was a big deal. Clifford told me himself he wasn't going to marry her. So posting that thing online, that was really small-minded of you!

Why aren't you saying anything? Are you mad again? See, this is exactly why I never told you any of it, because you're so petty

I bit down hard on my lip and swallowed the tears back down.

Evangeline and I had known each other ten years.

In high school her father wouldn't pay for her schooling, and I knelt in front of my mother and begged her to help. Later, when Eva couldn't afford to eat, I split my meals with her. When she started her business, I gave her every cent of my savings.

She always used to throw her arms around me and say, Nessa, I owe you so much in this life. I'll always be good to you, I swear!

And now she was one more person who'd lied to me, ready to throw away our ten years over a little kindness from a stranger.

Eva, was I not good to you?

My voice was very soft. No hysterics, no breaking down and screaming.

The other end of the line went suddenly silent, and the answer was obvious.

Rain pattered against the car window, and everything inside me went quiet.

Let's be done.

I hung up before she could answer.

The one who used to walk me home in the rain, this is where we part.

Losing love, losing friendship, none of it was worth grieving. At least I still had my work walking beside me.

Two years left before I go.

Back home, I pulled out my suitcase and packed up my things in a numb daze. Then I looked up at the wedding photo hanging on the wall, took a hammer from the storage room, and smashed it to pieces.

Cliff, the photographer's getting impatient. When are you coming?

Something's come up, I have to go collect evidence. Wait a little longer.

Do you even want to marry me? We have to keep waiting just to take a wedding photo?

Vanessa Henson, you're always like this. I'm busy! Are you the only person in the whole world with time on your hands? Can't you understand the position I'm in?

When we reshot that wedding photo, neither of us was smiling.

It was our first real fight in eight years, over his so-called work, waiting from dawn until dark, until we finally rushed through the shoot.

And on the way back, I torturing myself, opened Penelope's social media feed and saw it plainly: that same day, he'd been on the Ferris wheel with her, the two of them kissing.

The position you're in. It makes me sick.

The door was suddenly shoved open, and Clifford appeared, travel-worn and disheveled. He saw the wreckage all over the room and my suitcase, and stopped short.

What kind of scene are you making?

I didn't look at him. I calmly turned to leave the room, and he grabbed me hard, pulling me into his arms, his voice going gentle.

You posted online to force me back, and all this is the same thing, isn't it? Nessa, you're still the same as before, throwing childish tantrums.

Let's sit down and talk this through. Stop making a scene.

His words landed at the bottom of my heart, light as a feather, painless and hollow.

So this was what it felt like to no longer love someone.

I stepped out of his arms, my voice cold.

"We've already broken up, and I'm about to leave. There's nothing left to talk about with you."

The moment I finished, he grabbed my wrist again, his voice low.

"Where are you running off to be difficult this time? Another trip?"

To Clifford, a trip I took when I was hurting had always been read as me acting out. I had no heart to explain now. Let the misunderstanding be what ended us.

"Metropolis."

"For how long?"

"I'm not"

I didn't finish. My phone rang, and when I made out the words on the other end, my whole body started shaking.

"Miss Henson, your mother is in critical care. Come as fast as you can!"

A hard wave of dread rose in me. I threw off his hand and rushed forward.

He followed behind me. "Where are you going?"

Staring at the ride I was waiting on to be dispatched, I got the words out.

"Harborview General. Something's happened to my mom."

"I'll drive you."

We tore across the city. I ran to the doors of the critical care unit and caught the nurse outside by the arm, my eyes going red.

"My mother's been in a coma this whole time, but her condition was stable. How could she suddenly be in critical care?"

The nurse looked at me, then lowered her head, stumbling over the words.

"Your mother had woken up. But before we could notify you, a woman came into the room saying she was your friend, and I don't know what she said to her"

My mind filled with a roar. I burst out, "Who?"

Then a figure stopped in front of me and slapped me hard across the face.

"Who do you think? Me."

"All I did was show your mom the video of Cliff proposing to me, and tell her you're the shameless mistress. She just went like that on her own. If she couldn't take it, whose fault is that?"

The sting on my cheek cleared my head, and fury burned through me. I raised my hand and struck her back just as hard.

"Penelope Swanson, this is murder!"

I pulled out my phone to call the police, and someone shoved me hard.

"Vanessa Henson, when did you turn this vicious? You're actually hitting people!"

Clifford, who'd just finished parking, was standing in front of me now, condemning me without a second's hesitation.

My throat felt like a hand was clamped around it. I couldn't make a sound. There was no point explaining anything to a man who didn't love me.

I was about to press call for the police when Penelope spoke up, wounded.

"Cliff, Vanessa says I'm the mistress who broke up your relationship. Is that true? But didn't the two of us meet and fall in love abroad? If it's true, then I'll leave"

The instant she finished, Clifford rushed to answer, his voice gentle.

"You're not. She is. She's an old client of mine. She had a crush on me, it went nowhere, so now she's out to smear you."

Then Clifford walked over, snatched the phone out of my hand, and said sharply.

"Miss Henson, apologize to her for slandering her."

I raised my eyes to him, shock filling me.

"I'm not the one in the wrong. Why should I apologize?"

The next moment, Clifford's voice reached my ear like something out of a nightmare.

"Nessa, the surveillance footage that went missing from your mother's accident, I found it. You've wanted it for years. Apologize and admit your mistake, and I'll give it to you."

Hearing that, my whole body shook, grief and rage twisting together.

All those years, he'd known I wanted to find the truth. He'd found it and refused to give it to me, and now he was using it to force my hand.

Clifford, you have no heart.

His cold gaze met the anger in my eyes, certain I would bow my head.

I forced the fury back down. "Fine. Give me the footage."

His body went rigid.

I stepped toward Penelope and said quietly, "I'm sorry."

Penelope's eyes filled with shock too.

I turned and snatched the flash drive lying open in his palm.

The light over the critical care unit went dark. I hurried forward. The doctor came out shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Miss Henson. We did everything we could."

In that moment my tears wanted to break free, my mind filled with a roar, and hatred grew wild inside me.

Clifford looked at my hollowed-out face and said softly, "Nessa"

I forced myself to walk away, every step like treading on thin ice.

A message popped up on my phone.

"Miss Henson, your onboarding paperwork is finished. When are you planning to come in?"

"This afternoon."

Two days. I didn't want to wait even that long.

I turned off my phone. Carrying my grief and my hatred, I saw the funeral through, and knelt hard, forehead to the ground, before my mother's headstone.

Before boarding, a message from Clifford came up on my phone. "Nessa, are you okay?"

I typed out one line, then blocked him for good.

"I'm very well. But you and her won't be, not for long."

The flash drive files, the hospital surveillance, I handed all of it to a lawyer to file suit.

For the rest of my life, hatred would drive me upward, and everyone who hurt me would pay the price.