No More Scars

When I didn't respond for a long time, Leander didn't seem to care.

As far as he was concerned, I'd already gotten what I wanted.

After a brief pause, he tore open his shirt again and continued carving words into his chest, where old and new scars crisscrossed.

"Celeste is pregnant and needs someone to take care of her. I'm using some of that time in advance. This is today's."

A second name appeared on his chest.

"Celeste has a prenatal appointment tomorrow. I need to go with her."

A third name appeared across his lower abdomen.

"The day after that, Celeste is getting her maternity photos taken. I can't miss it. I'm the father, after all."

A fourth name. Then, a fifth.

Ten names in all had been carved across his upper body, leaving his flesh a bloody, mangled mess, yet Leander seemed numb to the pain.

Mechanical and utterly focused, he went on planning out every day he would spend with Celeste.

It made me, after ten years of desperately trying to brand my name into him, look like nothing more than a joke.

I snatched the knife from his hand, my voice trembling uncontrollably. "Leander, do you even remember what today is?"

A flicker of irritation crossed his eyes.

"What now? Your birthday? Our anniversary? Do you really have to use these sentimental excuses to ruin the hard-won time Celeste and I have together? I've already carved my skin for you. What more do you—"

I finally broke down and screamed, "Today is Kieran's death anniversary!"

His body went rigid. He fell silent.

Kieran was my first child, the baby I lost before birth.

Thirteen years ago, Celeste was driving drunk when she crashed into me, leaving me hemorrhaging. Leander retaliated with a vengeance.

He sued her until she lost everything and drove away everyone who had once stood by her. She had no choice but to spend her days and nights kneeling beside my hospital bed, begging for my forgiveness.

Yet, on Kieran's death anniversary three years later, Leander ended up in Celeste's bed. He even stood between us, telling me not to be so petty.

He'd said, "I was grieving too when we lost the baby. But you've put Celeste through enough. She has nothing left. You need to let the past go. The living are the ones who still have a future."

I'd spent three years watching Celeste suffer day after day. All that time, I'd thought Leander was making her pay. I never realized his heart had crossed that line long ago.

My children and I had simply become sacrifices to their love.

The last thread in my mind snapped, and without thinking, I slapped both him and Celeste.

He let the slap turn his head without resisting, but the moment I raised my hand against Celeste, he shoved me down the stairs.

Blood poured from beneath me. And my second child was taken from me by his own father.

After that, I lost my mind.

Every time I caught him sneaking around with Celeste, even when he frantically insisted that nothing improper had happened, I stubbornly carved my name into his skin, trying to cover the stain underneath.

But ten years had passed.

He had long since forgotten the death anniversaries of both my children.

Even the marks I'd left on him had become his bargaining chip for cheating on me as if he had every right to.

Looking at what I'd become, Leander suddenly laughed. It was a mocking laugh.

He lifted his head, his pitying gaze piercing straight into mine.

"So what? Am I supposed to live in guilt forever, and let Celeste's baby die before it's even born because it has no father to protect it?

"Kieran died. You weren't the only one in pain. But ten years have passed, and you're the only one who still can't let go. Seraphina, you're pathetic."