The Strawberry Juice Wife
My three-year-old son, Ben, was tucked into a narrow pocket of air, surviving by licking the blood that seeped from my mangled arm.
Through the walkie-talkie, my ex-husband, Connor Vance, was shouting, his voice ragged with impatience:
The entire city is mobilized for disaster relief, and you choose this exact moment to play a disappearing act? Do you have any sense of the bigger picture, Avery?
Ben heard his fathers voice. He lifted the device to his lips, his small cry thick with the soot and trauma of the past two days.
Daddy, Mommys sleeping. She said shes taking me home soon.
I drank all the strawberry juice, just like she said, but why is she still sleeping?
A sudden, terrifying dead silence fell over the other end of the line. It was followed by the sound of Connors voice, now a desperate, broken roar, ordering the excavator to speed up.
I looked at my son, who was about to be rescued, and a feeling of bitter relief washed over me.
Congratulations, Connor. Your troublesome wife has finally vanished, just as you wished.
1
The roar of the excavator grew louder.
I drifted in the air above, looking down at the wreckage that had been me.
My body was pinned beneath a massive concrete slab. My upper half was twisted and unrecognizable, but one arm was still stretched out, rigid in a final, protective arc. The back of my hand was a bloody mess, slashed open by a piece of rebar.
It was the last shield I had managed to give my son, Ben.
Connor came stumbling toward the ruins.
Hurry! Theres a child underneath!
He was screaming, his voice completely raw.
A rescue worker carefully lifted Ben out of the impossibly narrow gap. The boy was covered in dust, his face filthy, only the area around his mouth a shocking, dried crimson.
Connor rushed forward and snatched the boy into his arms.
He ran his hands frantically over Bens small body, checking for broken bones. When he confirmed the boy only had superficial cuts, his rigidly tight shoulders finally slumped.
The relief on his face instantly morphed into an explosion of pure fury.
Avery Cole! Where in the hell did you run off to?
Hes been trapped in the debris for two days, terrified, and where the hell are you?
The surrounding rescue team members paused their work, looking over with strange, uneasy expressions.
I floated right in front of him, reaching out to cover his mouth.
Stop shouting, I wanted to tell him. I am three feet directly beneath your boots.
But my hand passed right through his face.
He couldn't feel me.
Ben flinched at the sound of his father's rage, his small hand gripping Connor's jacket collar for dear life.
Daddy... dont yell at Mommy.
Connor scoffed, a cold, harsh sound, and slammed the walkie-talkie in Bens hand onto the ground.
The plastic casing cracked and splintered, just like my heart.
We had bought that set during our early dating days, while watching a cheesy disaster movie on the sofa.
He had promised me that even if the world lost all signal, even if the planet ended, we would use them to connect.
That's why I always kept mine in my bag.
Now, he had personally smashed our last physical link.
I shouldn't yell at her? She abandoned you here and ran off! You think she doesnt deserve it?
Or maybe she never even came to pick you up? Every time we argue, she pulls this disappearing act!
Daddy, Mommy didnt run.
Bens face crumpled. Tears washed streaks through the dirt, leaving muddy rivulets down his cheeks.
Mommy was really sleeping. She gave me lots and lots of strawberry juice and told me to be good and drink it all.
Connor froze.
He looked down at the ring of dried, dark red around Bens mouth. His brow furrowed in a tight knot.
He pulled out a wet wipe and roughly scrubbed at the corner of Bens mouth.
What kind of nonsense is this? She feeds you garbage food like this? All that dye, its disgusting.
An aftershock hit without warning.
The ground began to shake violently, and the small pocket of wreckage the team had managed to open collapsed again.
Connors first instinct was to shield Ben, stumbling backward to the safety line, clutching his son close.
I watched the debris fall, completely sealing the small entrance to the survival pocket.
The last sliver of light illuminating my remains vanished.
Good, I thought. At least the child wont see.
Connor handed Ben to the medic who rushed over, his voice filled with barely suppressed disgust.
He turned to the second-in-command next to him. There are no more signs of life here. Youll come with me to the East Sector. As for Avery Cole...
He paused, his tone dismissive.
Forget her. Shes too clever for this. Shes probably already holed up in some secure bunker.
Daddy
Ben, nestled in the medics arms, suddenly stretched out his hand, desperately grabbing the edge of Connors jacket.
Daddy, Mommy didnt run.
The childs cry held a note of frantic urgency as he struggled to find the words.
Mommy was really sleeping. She wouldnt let me wake her up. And she was sweating so much...
Connor frowned, pulling out a tissue to forcefully scrub at the 'stain' on Ben's lips.
Stop it, Ben.
He paid no attention to the words of a three-year-old. He turned and strode away toward the next set of ruins, throwing himself back into the rescue work.
I floated in the air, watching his decisive, uncaring back.
I wanted to weep, but I had no tears left to cry.
The medical tent was dimly lit, the sharp smell of disinfectant mixing with the metallic tang of dirt.
A nurse was gently wiping Bens face with a warm towel. When the cloth touched his lips, she stopped.
Doctor! Come quickly! the nurses voice was laced with alarm. What is all this red around the boys mouth? Is he bleeding internally?
I floated beside Ben, heartbroken, looking at his cracked lips and the circle of dark red that was now an accusation.
Connor was tending to a gash on his own forearm nearby. He scowled and walked over.
He grabbed a fresh wet wipe and scraped at Bens mouth again.
He ate some junk food, he stated flatly.
The dried blood smeared under the friction of the wipe, smudging the edges of Ben's dusty little face.
Ben cried out, twisting his head away, pushing Connors hand with his small wrist.
Dont wipe it! Its Mommys strawberry juice!
I looked at Bens tear-filled eyes, remembering the scene clearly.
How, in the midst of the agonizing pain and the encroaching lack of air, I had managed a smile for him.
Be a good boy, this is Mommys magic strawberry juice. Only Ben gets to drink this in the whole wide world, okay?
My poor, innocent boy. He had actually believed me.
Connors movements stalled for half a second.
Then, his anger burned hotter.
How old are you? And shes still stuffing you with garbage like this? She didnt even bother to come find you when the earthquake hit. How irresponsible can she be?
The phone in Connors pocket vibrated suddenly.
He glanced at the caller ID, walked to the tent entrance, and answered, lowering his voice.
I drifted silently closer.
A woman's voice came through, familiar and intimate.
Connor, any word from Avery? I checked with Central Hospital, and they said Dr. Cole never showed up for work.
It was Skylar, his second-in-command.
Dont worry about her, Connors voice was completely devoid of warmth. Shes not dead. Shes probably hiding in some safe bunker, too scared to move. A doctor, no less.
I forced a bitter laugh.
Of course. In his mind, I was nothing more than a coward, a run-away wife who abandoned her son and shirked her professional duty.
Daddy
Ben called out weakly, then suddenly arched his back and vomited.
A pool of dark red fluid spilled onto the tent floor.
The heavy, metallic smell of blood instantly filled the small space.
Connor sprinted back, scooped up his limp son, and roared, Doctor!
I hovered above Ben, gripped by an absolute terror, yet utterly powerless.
The doctor rushed over. After a quick examination, his face grew grim.
Severe dehydration, acute stress disorder.
The doctor looked at the vomit on the ground, then met Connors eyes. His stomach is completely empty of food. Its all... blood.
Connor froze. He looked down at Bens pale face, instinctively prying open his sons mouth. Did he bite his tongue?
The doctor slowly shook his head, offering no further explanation.
An experienced old physician, he likely understood the truth, and he looked at Connor with a deeply complex expression.
He was about to speak.
Just then, a sweat-soaked rescue worker burst into the tent.
Captain! The wreckage at the kindergarten... its all cleared.
The worker paused, gasping for breath, before reporting, We didnt find... any bodies.
The arm Connor was using to hold Ben tightened instantly.
A flash of relief crossed his eyes, but it was quickly replaced by a deeper contempt.
He pulled at the corner of his mouth, letting out a cold snort. I knew she was lucky.
I floated above the tent, watching his expression of simultaneous relief and utter scorn.
Yes, you couldnt find me.
Because the moment the classroom building collapsed, the ground beneath me had split open. I was buried far deeper than anyone realized.
The air in the medical tent grew heavier.
Bens face was flushed crimson, his tiny body curled up. Even in his uneasy sleep, his brow was deeply furrowed.
The damp cloth on his forehead had been replaced three times, but the high fever showed no sign of breaking.
I anxiously hovered over him, wishing I could reach out to check his forehead, as I had done countless nights before.
I remembered how delicate Ben was as an infant, prone to fevers with every change of season. I would stay awake all night, sponging him down with warm water. When the fever finally broke, I would make him his favorite pumpkin soup.
Now, I could only watch his discomfort, his parched lips, and the cold needle entering his arm.
I wanted to hug him, to press my cool palm to his forehead, to tell him his mother hadn't left.
But I was nothing more than airuntouchable, untamable.
Connor sat beside him, the crease between his brows never relaxing.
He reached out to remove the abrasive backpack tucked under Bens arm, hoping to let him sleep more comfortably.
The moment he touched the bag, Ben snapped his eyes open.
He gripped the backpack with all his strength, pulling it close to his chest.
Dont touch it! the childs voice was hoarse and tearful. Its for Mommy!
Connors hand froze mid-air.
I have to keep it safe for Mommy!
Bens tears fell in heavy drops, soaking into the canvas of the bag.
Its the gift Daddy bought for Mommy... if she keeps it safe, then you wont fight anymore...
I hung from the tent ceiling, a sharp, acidic pain seizing my chest.
My foolish, three-year-old son, so sensitive, already trying to mend the massive rift between his parents.
Connors expression instantly turned savage as he listened to Bens fragmented words.
What kind of nonsense are you talking about? he snarled. Did Avery tell you we fight? Is this what she teaches you?
I surged toward him, screaming into his ear.
I didn't! I never said a word to him!
He couldn't hear me.
He snatched the bag from Ben's grasp, violently yanked open the stuck zipper, and dumped the contents onto the cot.
A few crushed crackers, an empty water bottle, and a slightly tattered teddy bear.
I remembered that bear.
It was our third wedding anniversary.
That morning, I had seen the screen of Connors phone, which he hadnt fully locked.
A photo of him and Skylar. They were close, both smiling brightly. Below the photo was a caption I hadnt wanted to read in full, something about a "teammate's catch" and how much she "loved it."
Just a few days before, I had found a small jewelry box tucked into the back of his closet. Inside was a gold pendant Id spent ages looking at in a store window but never dared to buy.
I had assumed it was my surprise.
But that evening, his gift had been this cheap teddy bear.
All the suppressed resentment and suspicion had boiled over. I looked at him in silence, and he simply assumed I was having one of my small tantrums.
Dont you like it? he had asked.
I didnt answer. I walked to the door and tossed the bear into the hallway trash can.
We had an explosive fight.
But for Bens sake, I never said the real reason. I thought if I just endured it, he would have a whole family, a whole childhood.
The child knew everything, it turned out. And he was loving us in his own clumsy, heartbreaking way.
Connor picked up the bear, his eyes a mix of annoyance and confusion. He probably hadn't expected me to retrieve the damned thing, let alone for Ben to treat it like a treasure.
Crying over this piece of junk?
He squeezed the bear in frustration. Suddenly, his fingers stilled.
Through the fabric, he felt a hard lump.
He frowned, turned the bear over, and pulled open the hidden zipper at the back.
A sparkling gold necklace slipped out of the stuffing and fell into his scarred palm.
The pendant hanging from the chain was a simple, polished Afor Avery.
It caught a faint light in the tents gloom.
I stared, dumbfounded.
The necklace... it was inside the bear Id thrown away?
A suspicion I failed to voice. A surprise he never got to explain.
We had missed the last possible chance for reconciliation, separated by nothing more than a discarded teddy bear that I had quietly brought back.
And now, separated by life and death. Everything was a cruel, irreversible joke.
I looked closely at the necklace.
When we were dating, we often stopped by that jewelry store. I had pointed to a simple, classic gold pendant.
Look, Connor, isnt this perfect? I dont need wealth or extravagance. I only ask that our family be safe, peaceful, and content.
Peace and contentment. That was my simplest, most fundamental wish for our life together.
Connor had kissed my forehead then. Okay, whatever you want.
He had remembered. He had bought my wish.
But because of one suspicious photo, because of a terrible misunderstanding, the gift meant to symbolize peace and contentment had become the deepest barrier between us.
And I hadn't known. I thought I had just recovered a cheap toy, but I had actually recovered the assurance I had desperately craved.
Connor pinched the chain, his thumb rubbing the engraved A.
Then, he let out a cold, cynical laugh.
Avery... do you hate me that much? he muttered to himself. Youre such a little gold-digger, yet you hated me enough to throw away even this?
My soul writhed in agony in the air.
No, Connor. No, thats not it.
Connor shoved the necklace into his pocket and pulled out his phone, his movements jerky and agitated.
He unlocked the screen and typed a message with furious force.
He sent it.
Avery, stop making a scene. I know youre mad, but what time is it? The entire city is working disaster relief. Get through these next few days. Dont abandon your duty because youre mad at me!
I laughed, a dry, hysterical sound.
Connor Vance, you bastard! I would never abandon my duty because of a petty fight!
Stop lying about me!
I screamed, but no sound escaped.
My hand passed straight through his body.
I stood stunned for a moment, covering my face. My soul curled up in despair.
We truly would never have the chance to explain things to each other.
Just then, the tent flap was violently thrown open.
A figure stumbled inside.
Ben! My sweet boy!
It was my mother, Martha.
She rushed to the cot. When she saw the feverish, unconscious Ben, tears instantly welled up. She reached out a trembling hand to touch his forehead, then pulled back, afraid to wake him.
She looked around the small tent, her bloodshot eyes frantic.
Wheres Avery? Where is my Avery?!
Connor saw her and assumed she was here to scold me for my absence, too.
Mom, calm down. Shes not here. Shes just throwing a fit and hiding somewhere. She hasnt even come to check on Ben. After this is over, Im going to
My mother cut him off with a strangled cry.
Martha grabbed Connors arm, her red-rimmed eyes wide and accusatory. Her voice was shaking.
What foolishness are you talking about!
She asked for the day off two days agothe day of the earthquakespecifically to pick up Ben from daycare!
Connors mind went blank.
He stared at my mother, his lips moving soundlessly.
Time off? The hospital said she never reported. I thought...
You thought what?!
My mothers voice rose sharply. She said it was your anniversary! She said you were too busy with work, so she was going to pick up Ben and bring you a surprise at the headquarters!
Connors body stiffened violently. His gaze fixed on Bens little canvas backpack.
I floated over and looked at the bag.
Inside, besides the teddy bear Connor had roughly pulled out, there was a neat, square, dark blue velvet box, resting quietly in the corner.
It was the watch I had searched several stores for, the one I had picked out just for him.
My mother slid down to the floor along the edge of the cot, covering her face and letting out muffled sobs.
Her phone wont connect... no ones home... I thought they were with you... Where could she be! Where is my Avery!
Connor pulled his phone from his pocket, his hand shaking.
His finger slid across the screen, opening our last text message conversation.
The most recent entry was from the night before the earthquake.
It was a long paragraph of his accusationscalling me cold, uncaring, and impossible to understand.
My reply was one sentence.
Tomorrow, well talk.
First, search for and download the MotoNovel app from Google. Then, open the app and use the code "312838" to read the entire book.
MotoNovel
Novellia
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