She Taught Him How To Love: He Used It To Destroy Me Chapter 10

She Taught Him How To Love: He Used It To Destroy Me Chapter 10

Later, he posted an unedited video on his original account.

No lights. No script.

He admitted that every test had been his own choice.

He admitted that the two hundred eighty thousand dollars had been a Loan.

He admitted that he’d finished the Live Stream after hearing the news of her death.

The comments had hundreds of thousands of angry messages.

He didn’t delete them.

Six months later, he came to Clarke’s Alterations once.

He stood outside the door, not coming in.

“Can I come in?”

I shook my head.

“No.”

Ethan stopped right at the threshold.

In his hand was a bowl of Oatmeal with Brown Sugar.

Less sugar, no peanuts.

“I just wanted to see how you’re doing,” he said.

“That has nothing to do with you.”

“Then what can I do?”

“Remember,” I said, pulling down the metal shutter.

“Remember what you did.”

The shutter came down inch by inch.

Through the last crack, he was still standing outside.

I rented the small storefront beneath my mom’s old place.

I moved her old sewing machine in.

The sign read:

[Clarke’s Alterations.]

The day before opening, I pulled out the unfinished Wedding Dress.

The red fabric had already been cut into the bodice.

The sleeve was only half-sewn.

My mom had wanted me to wear it when I married Ethan.

I picked up the scissors and cut along her marked lines, seam by seam.

Cora stood beside me.

“You’re really not keeping it?”

I snipped the last red thread.

“Keep it for what?” I said.

“For a Wedding that’s never coming?”

I put the red fabric back together.

The sewing machine made its familiar sound.

When I was sixteen, I’d first learned to finish seams-my stitches were crooked as hell.

My mom spent the whole night taking them out, then made me start over.

She said, “If the stitching’s crooked, it’s not the end of the world.”

“Look closely, undo it, and start over.”

The needle went through the red fabric, stitch after stitch.

The Wedding Dress my mom never got to finish-I turned it into the Shop Curtain for my store.

The day I opened, the wind was strong.

The red curtain kept blowing up.

At dusk, I turned off the sewing machine.

My mom’s photo sat by the window.

In it, she had her hair permed and wore a shy smile.

I set a slice of Pumpkin Bread in front of her.

“Not too sweet,” I said.

“From your favorite place.”

Outside, the wind picked up again.

The red curtain lifted, then settled back down.

That Wedding Dress never made it to a Wedding.

But it kept the wind out for me.

(THE END]