Week 89 – Bright lights were everywhere, the room was unfamiliar . . . where was she?

Bright lights were everywhere, the room was unfamiliar . . . where was she?

Rachel had no idea.

“Open your eyes right now,” a voice ordered.

It was Drake’s voice, so she must be dead, right? She didn’t feel dead. The throbbing pain in her shoulder was a huge giveaway.

“Snap out of it, I’m not losing you again.”

She was laid down and sudden intense pressure on her bleeding shoulder made her flinch, and like a button had been pressed made her eyes pop open.

Drake’s eyes looked down at her but from Drake’s face.

She was so confused.

“Who are you?” she asked.

“You know who I am,” the man replied.

“You can’t be. Drake is dead.”

“No I’m not. I’m right here.”

That made no sense. Drake had been tortured to death in front of her. She had been at his funeral. She had spent the last several months grieving him and their stillborn daughter.

Alone.

Drake would never have let her go through that.

“It was the only way to keep you safe. At least I thought it was,” he said, pain written all over his face and his voice.

This was surreal.

This was crazy.

She had been mourning a man who wasn’t really dead.

Her husband, the man she loved and adored, had let her suffer. Had let her feel the worst pain a person could feel. Had left her alone to cry herself to sleep every night. But every tear she had shed had been a lie, and so was the man she thought she loved.

With one hand keeping pressure on her wound, he tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I’ll never leave you again.”

No.

He wouldn’t.

Because she would never be stupid enough to let him back into her life.

Rachel turned her head away from Drake and closed her eyes, shutting him out.

Drake’s lies had shattered her heart into a million pieces and she didn’t think she could ever put them back together.

Exhausted she let the pain spiral her away into unconsciousness.

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