Chapter 2
Still seething, Zach turned and slapped the cup out of her hands with a sharp wave. “Who wants your water? You’re just as annoying as your mother.”
The steaming water splashed across the back of her hand. Kathy cried out and clutched her arm, tears pouring down her face.
I rushed over with ointment, gently applying it to her reddened skin. My heart twisted at the sight, and I choked on my words as I tried to soothe her. “Don’t cry, Kathy. Once the medicine’s on, it won’t hurt anymore…”
A flicker of panic crossed Zach’s face. He stepped forward, flustered, his eyes darting to Kathy’s injured arm. “I’m sorry, Kathy. I didn’t mean to. Daddy will take you to the clinic right now!”
He bent down, ready to carry her. My chest tightened with worry. I lifted Kathy into his arms, and we headed for the door.
Just as we stepped outside, a sharp cry rang out from the second bedroom. “Zach! Felicia hurt her knee! It’s bleeding! Come help me!”
He paused, frowning deeply, his gaze fixed on the room behind us.
Kathy and I both spoke up, our voices almost overlapping.
“Please, take us to the clinic first. I can’t handle everything alone—paying, carrying Kathy—”
“Daddy, it hurts so much. Can we go to the clinic first…?”
Before I could finish, Zach gently lowered Kathy into my arms. He looked apologetic. “Felicia’s always been fragile. Jennifer can’t manage on her own. You take Kathy to the clinic first. I’ll be right behind you.”
And with that, he hurried back inside.
I carried Kathy down the road for several miles to the clinic. The doctor treated the burn and applied ointment.
It was late by then. They gave us a bed for the night.
Since Jennifer had come back into our lives—two lifetimes now—that was the only night Kathy and I had shared a real bed.
…
In my sleep, I found myself drifting back.
Back to when Zach and I were still dating. He held my hand gently and said, “Anna, be with me. I swear, I’ll never let you suffer.”
He promised to shelter me from storms. That he’d never let anyone hurt me.
I believed him. And I married him.
In the beginning, his house didn’t even have furniture, just a bed.
But Zach was ambitious. He said he wanted to give me a better life.
He took odd jobs from school—grading papers, organizing lesson plans, and writing notes for teachers. He’d stay up until three or four in the morning.
With the first money he earned from those sleepless nights, he bought me a pair of wool gloves.
He’d worked for over a month, through the cold, until his hands broke out with chilblains again and again.
I was so moved, I told him not to waste money like that.
But he slid the gloves onto my hands, smiling like the sun in winter. “With these, your hands won’t get cold anymore. If it’s for you, it’s worth it.”
Our life steadily got better.
We filled the house with furniture little by little. Then Kathy was born. Our family of three slept in the same bed.
People around us often joked that Zach was the perfect husband.
The happy marriage lased almost six years.
Until Jennifer arrived with her daughter.
Zach stopped sharing a bed with us. He told me and Kathy to sleep on the kitchen floor.
I thought maybe he was having a hard time at work. So I brought Kathy with me to his office, hoping to cheer him up.
But I saw him outside the preschool, grinning as he held Jennifer’s daughter by the hand. He lifted the girl into his arms and said, “Would you like me to be your daddy from now on?”
My feet froze on the stairs. The pain in my chest was sudden and sharp, like something had been violently carved out of me. I couldn’t breathe.
He had never smiled at me or Kathy like that. Because he didn’t love me. Because in his heart, I was never Jennifer.
Now he finally got a house with two bedrooms, however he was so cruel, forcing us to sleep on the floor in the dead of winter, while giving Jennifer and her daughter the bed in our home.
