I Erased Our Marriage Timeline Chapter 08
Bethany’s check-up results were perfect.
The doctor said her recovery was remarkable; from now on, she only needed a follow-up every six months.
Bethany was ecstatic, beaming like a child as she grabbed Joseph’s hand. “I want barbecue! We have to celebrate.”
Joseph smiled back. “Sure. Whatever you want.”
That evening, Bethany ate heartily, her laughter filling the air.
Joseph watched her, yet a faint, gnawing unease stirred in his chest.
He couldn’t quite explain why the feeling was there.
That night, he had a dream.
It was vivid — frighteningly real.
He dreamed he was in a bar, drowned in alcohol, his vision a blurred mess.
Someone was supporting him, a faint, delicate scent clinging to them.
He pulled that person into his arms.
The scene shifted. He was in bed, and someone was lying beside him.
He couldn’t see that woman’s face, but he knew he had been the one to initiate it.
Then, he noticed the door wasn’t fully closed.
Bethany was standing in the hallway.
She was clutching her mouth, tears streaming uncontrollably. She watched him and the person in the bed for a long time before turning away.
He tried to scream, but no sound came out.
He tried to chase her, but he was paralyzed.
He could only watch as Bethany vanished into the darkness of the corridor.
The dream shifted again.
He saw himself standing before Bethany’s grave, soaked to the bone.
In the torrential rain, he knelt in the mud, sobbing like a broken child.
Then he returned home and smashed everything in sight.
He saw Perla standing at the bedroom door, her face ghostly pale, her lips trembling.
“Joseph…” she whispered.
He shoved her aside, barged into her room, and ripped open a drawer.
At the very bottom lay a hidden diary.
He opened it and read page after page.
“Joseph made pasta for me today. That was delicious. He must be the best brother in the world.”
“Bethany is so good to Joseph. They’re perfect together. I should be happy for them.”
“Joseph got drunk tonight. He held me, but he called out Bethany’s name.
I know… he’s only ever seen me as his sister.”
“If only that night hadn’t happened. Then Joseph wouldn’t be so miserable, and Bethany wouldn’t have left.”
“I hate myself.”
He slammed the diary down in front of her. “You did it on purpose, didn’t you, Perla? You wanted her to see.”
She shook her head, tears falling. “I didn’t… I really didn’t…”
“Your love makes me sick.”
Then, he saw her lying alone in a cramped rental room, burning with fever, coughing, with no one by her side.
Her phone screen glowed with his missed calls.
She didn’t pick up.
She never picked up again.
“Perla…”
Joseph bolted upright, drenched in a cold sweat.
Outside, the sky was still dark. Bethany was sleeping beside him, her breathing steady.
He gasped for air, his heart hammering against his ribs as if it might explode.
The images were too real, too visceral to be mere imagination.
He closed his eyes, and the images flooded back.
It wasn’t a dream.
He remembered.
He remembered everything.
That night, he had been drunk — drugged.
That night, he had forced himself on Perla, and Bethany had witnessed the whole thing from the doorway.
That was why Bethany had left so resolutely. That was why she said she didn’t love him anymore and refused to reconcile.
And he had blamed it all on Perla.
He had divorced her, crushed her, ensured she left with nothing, and made it impossible for her to find work.
When she was dying in that rental room, she was utterly alone.
The last words she ever heard were “Your love makes me sick.”
Joseph buried his face in his hands, his body shaking.
He remembered.
God help him; he remembered it all.