A Memo from My Eighteen-Year-Old Self

The moment I tapped Send, the screen froze.

Then a new message appeared.

“Linda at Eighteen: Who are you? Michael just gave me an engagement ring.”

My eyes widened.

My heart gave a violent lurch.

This cloud journal’s servers hadn’t even existed ten years ago.

How could my eighteen-year-old self be replying to me in real time?

Before I could figure out what was happening, the bedroom door flew open.

The sharp stench of cheap perfume filled the room.

Michael walked in with his arm around his intern, Chloe Spencer.

She was wearing my silk nightgown.

Leaning against his chest, she stared at my feet.

“Michael, Linda’s feet look terrifying.”

Michael frowned in disgust.

“Then don’t look. You’ll lose your appetite.”

I gripped the old tablet tightly.

“This is my room.”

Michael scoffed.

“This entire villa belongs to me. So do you.

“If you don’t like it, get out.”

I pointed at the pregnancy test lying on the floor, its two red lines clearly visible.

“Clean up your trash.”

Chloe immediately ducked behind Michael.

“Please don’t be mad at Michael, Linda.

“This is all my fault. I forgot to take my pill last night.

“But the baby’s innocent.”

The same tired innocent act.

My stomach turned as I looked Michael in the eye.

“You’re really planning to bring your mistress’s baby into this family?”

Michael let go of Chloe and strode over to me.

Then he brought his expensive leather shoe down on my right foot.

Right where he’d shattered it three years ago.

The bones had long since healed crooked.

“Shut up.

“Chloe’s only twenty. She’s at the perfect age to have children.

“Look at you. You can’t even stand.”

Agony tore through my foot and shot straight to my head.

Cold sweat beaded across my forehead.

Three years ago, all I’d done was secretly apply for a job as a dance instructor.

When Michael found out, he flew into a rage and smashed both my legs with a golf club.

He said he was the only person I needed in my life.

But he hadn’t always been like this.

Ten years ago, I’d sprained my ankle during dance practice.

Michael had carried me three miles to the hospital on his back.

Outside the emergency room, he’d sworn through tear-filled eyes that he would never let anyone hurt me.

Now he was the one who had hurt me most.

“Get your foot off me.”

I forced the words through clenched teeth.

Instead of moving, Michael pressed down even harder.

Chloe covered her mouth and giggled.

“Michael, you’re so mean.

“Linda’s already crippled. Don’t pick on her.”

She walked over and bent down to retrieve the pregnancy test.

Then she deliberately placed it on the armrest of my wheelchair.

“Give us your blessing, Linda.

“Once the baby’s born, I’ll teach them to call you Auntie Linda.”

I knocked the pregnancy test away with one hand.

The plastic stick struck Chloe’s calf.

“Ah!”

She screamed and dropped to the floor, clutching her flat stomach with both hands.

“It hurts. My stomach hurts.”