Chapter 5: The Pond and the Scar

The bridal shop was hidden inside a mansion—crystal chandeliers, marble floors, velvet everywhere. The kind of place little girls dream about. Not me.

I stood off to the side while Ethan and the designer talked, letting the assistant measure me like a dress form. I watched the garden through the window, wishing I could step out and disappear.

Eventually, I slipped outside to the pond. The water was glassy, dragonflies skimming the surface. Beyond the garden gate, the road stretched toward something that looked a lot like freedom.

I’d thought about running so many times. But when push came to shove, there was nowhere to go. My mom wanted this wedding so bad she’d have tied me to the altar herself.

I sat at the pond’s edge until Ethan found me.

"What are you thinking about?"

He stood over me, always looking down, always in control.

I rolled up my sleeve and showed him the scar on my wrist.

A small red circle, ringed with raised skin—a souvenir from high school.

"Look, this is from your cigarette."

I watched his face, searching for a flicker of guilt. All I saw was that same old arrogance—until he lit a cigarette, then pressed the burning end into his own skin, right where my scar was.

He met my eyes. "Does that make it a little better, Aubrey?"

...

I looked down. The new burn stood out, angry and raw.

He pulled me into his arms.

"Aubrey, if only I could share your pain."

Fireflies hovered over the pond, moonlight rippling on the water. The night air was thick with the smell of grass and the hum of crickets. I watched the fireflies, tiny sparks floating above the dark.

"Ethan, you know—all that pain came from you!"

He went stiff, then ran his fingers through my hair, slow and careful.

"Then let me make it up to you, okay?"