Chapter 17
“Do you remember that one performance we did? You were the female lead, and the original male lead got injured and couldn’t go on. He stepped in to replace him. Have you forgotten that?” Meredith pressed.
Lucille paused, then nodded faintly. Fragments of that memory finally surfaced.
“He’s the principal dancer now… that’s wonderful,” she said. There was a faint tinge of regret in her voice, but more than that, she was truly happy for her junior.
Meredith slipped an arm around her shoulders. “Life has no real end, Lucille.”
Lucille nodded hard. “I know, Prof. Gomez.” She had already made up her mind to set sail again.
It had been an extraordinary night, as the very first time in five years she’d stepped into a theater to watch a dance performance.
Even back home, her heart still thrummed with excitement.
Lucille placed the flowers in a vase, snapped a photo, and couldn’t resist posting it on Instagram: “Tonight belongs to my passion and love.”
After that, she removed her makeup, washed up, and climbed into bed.
There were 29 days left until leaving Cedrick. She was reconnected with her passion tonight.
She’d thought Cedrick wouldn’t come home again, but at midnight, the sound of the door opening jolted her awake.
When Cedrick stumbled into the room, the strong smell of alcohol hit her.
He’d been drinking again.
By the way he knocked over a chair with a clatter as he walked, Lucille could guess how much he’d drunk.
Without even taking a shower, he collapsed onto the bed.
The stench was unbearable…
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Chapter 17
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Lucille had no desire to nag him anymore, neither about drinking less nor taking a bath.
But she couldn’t stand the smell, so she got up, planning to move to the guest room.
Yet just as she reached the bedroom door, Cedrick’s voice slurred from behind her, “Where are you going?”
She didn’t answer, just reaching for the doorknob.
A creak came from the bed. Cedrick had actually gotten up. He bumped into the chair again, then grabbed her wrist tightly. “Why aren’t you sleeping? Where are you off to?”
“I’m going to the guest room. Let go of me,” she said, struggling to break free.
But arguing with a drunk was useless. The harder she fought, the tighter his grip became. until her efforts proved fruitless.
“Okay, stop messing around. What’s the point? If you’d apologized earlier, I wouldn’t have embarrassed you like this,” He mumbled, drunk and indistinct.
Lucille froze, wondering what he meant. He was acting like she was the one who owed an apology.
“When did I ever say I’d apologize?” She hadn’t even seen him all day. How could she have apologized?
Cedrick let out a drunken snort, slurring his words as he said, “Tonight belongs to my passion and love!… So I came back. If you’d just given in earlier, I wouldn’t have held it against you…”
Lucille was dumbfounded. Cedrick actually thought that Instagram post was for him. She complained inwardly, “Cedrick, what on earth is going through your head?”
“Lucille…” He suddenly pulled her into a hug. “I know. I know you love me. You’d give anything for me. So no matter what happens, I’ll never betray you…”
Lucille froze.
He was right, once.
She had loved him so deeply.
He’d said the same thing at their wedding, too. Back then, she’d believed that those words weren’t a confession, but a promise.
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Chapter 17
She’d taken them as a lifelong promise.
She’d thought, “A lifetime is so long. Perhaps someday, our hearts will turn to each other. And even if his love never comes my way, my love for him alone will be more than enough…”
“Cedrick,” she said suddenly, a question burning on her lips.
“Yes?” His hot, alcohol–laced breath fanned her ear, making her skin prickle.
“But Mari is back now. If you stay with me, what about her?”
“Mari? Mari…” He repeated the name, and he choked out, “Maricela, I won’t forget. I’ll never forget what I promised you…”
Lucille felt as if she’d been plunged into an ice cellar.
She wondered if Cedrick was so drunk that he thought she was Maricela.
“What is it? What did you promise Mari?” she asked numbly.
“Everything… everything, Mari…” His arms tightened around her suddenly.
Before Lucille could react, he lifted her off her feet, her body light in his grasp.
Then he pushed her down onto the bed. His alcohol–fumed breath washed over her face, her nose, her chin…
He fumbled, trying to find her lips, but she twisted away each time.
The stench of liquor made her stomach turn.
When he started yanking at her pajamas, she fought harder.
“Mari, good girl… stop…”
He was still calling her Mari.
Lucille struggled with all her strength, finally yanking one hand free. She swung it, and the slap landed crisply on his cheek.
“Cedrick! Look at me! I’m not your Maricela!” She shouted, her voice hoarse in the quiet night.
His body went rigid for a moment. She seized the chance, shoving him hard.
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He rolled onto his back, still drunk, and mumbled, “Mari… I’m sorry. I have to go home… I promised her I’d take care of her forever… I owe her…”