The Mountain Highway That Took My Love and Child Chapter 09

The Mountain Highway That Took My Love and Child Chapter 09

“Lena!” Julian screamed, bolting upright.

A sharp, searing pain ripped through his body, forcing him back down.

“What are you doing? Your head is still bandaged. Don’t move.”

Julian opened his eyes. Mia sitting by his bedside.

She didn’t look up, focused on peeling an apple, then cast him a cold glance.

“Trying to recreate her death? Feel exactly what she felt?” she asked softly. “Pity God didn’t grant you the satisfaction of dying.”

Mia set the knife down. A half-peeled apple rested on the tray.

“Still not good at it. You were right about one thing—you sheltered me too much.”

“I threw the tantrum to meet him. I insisted on going.”

“Lena only covered for me because I wouldn’t stop crying. She couldn’t bear to see me hurt.”

She drifted into the memory, eyes welling with grief.

“All those years, Lena walked me home. She lost count of the bullies she chased off.”

“Frail as she was, she never hesitated to swing her bag at boys twice her size.”

“She protected me countless times. Once, she failed and you never let it go.”

Mia glared at Julian with pure hatred. He wasn’t her brother. He was just the monster who killed her best friend.

“You used her mistake to judge, torture, and punish her—all to pin on yourself a badge of righteousness.”

“You called it disciplined, an excuse to crawl back into your coward’s shell.”

“I hate you, Julian. You killed her.”

Julian sat frozen. His gaze drifted to the knife.

Mia noticed and snatched it away.

He gave a hollow laugh. “You’re right. It’s all my fault.”

“And I don’t deserve the escape of death.”

Upon discharge, Julian buried the stillborn baby and carved its name, chosen long ago, into the tiny headstone.

Beside it lay the grave he’d prepared for her, ringed by fresh sod.

“Lena, I planted these forget-me-nots for you. Your favorite.”

“If there’s an afterlife, will I see you?”

The words barely left his lips before he shook his head, smiling bitterly.

“No. Don’t see me. I don’t deserve your forgiveness.”

“I hope you have better luck next time. Never meet anyone like me again.”

He leaned down, brushing a kiss against the swaying petals.

Then he turned and walked out, toward the waiting cruiser.

Julian was convicted of involuntary manslaughter and sentenced to seven years.

My spirit lingered over the forget-me-nots.

The heavy clouds that had hung overhead for weeks finally broke.

Warm sunlight washed over the earth, dispersing the last of the haze.