His Sixteen Year Old Self Begged Me To Run

The first time Alex Thorne cheated with his executive assistant, I had what the doctors clinically diagnosed as a psychotic break.
In the throes of a debilitating low, I picked up the kitchen knife on the counter, intending to end it all.
Why are you doing this to yourself, Liz? Did he finally break you?
I looked up. Sixteen-year-old Alex Thorne was walking toward me, his face etched with familiar tenderness.
Tell me who it is, he murmured softly. Ill take care of him for you.
Staring at the bright, earnest look in the boys eyes, I didnt speak.
Quietly, I just pointed toward his face.
Later, Alex himself was the one who signed the papers to have me admitted to the psychiatric facility.
In the brief, lucid moments when the stabilizers kicked in, the boy would sit on my bedside.
He would stare at the adult man outsidea face so much like his ownand the light in his eyes would slowly, agonizingly, die out.
Then he would struggle to speak, his voice ragged and bloody:
No matter who he is, Im going to kill him.
Sixteen-year-old Alex Thorne never lied to me.
He always meant what he said.
1
When Alex pushed open the door, the overly sweet signature scent of Savannah Wellshis assistantwafted in ahead of him.
His eyes fell immediately to the fresh gauze wrapped around my wrist, and his brow twitched in annoyance.
Liz, I was gone for ten minutes. Can you not cause trouble for five minutes?
He reached out to tear off the bandage, his movements full of a harsh, impatient disgust.
I flinched, instinctively pulling my hand to my chest and muttering a soft protest:
Someone already bandaged it for me.
Alexs hand froze mid-air. The look he gave me was heavy with a deep, bottomless fatigue.
In the beginning, when I first started saying someone was protecting me, Alex would just assume my illness was worsening, and hed hold me tight, his eyes red with genuine distress.
But now, my long-term pain had become nothing more than a burden he desperately wanted to shed.
There is no one, Liz. How long are you going to keep up this delusion?
Before I could answer, he roughly seized my wrist.
His fingers didnt soften at my tremble; if anything, the grip tightened, like a punishment.
The gauze was forcefully peeled from my skin, tearing the half-dried scabs away.
A cold sweat broke out across my forehead, but I stubbornly held the bleeding wound up for his inspection, my voice shaking.
I havent lied to you since I was fifteen. You know that
Meeting the fractured light in my eyes, he seemed to remember something. His gaze darted away for a fraction of a second, and he turned to leave.
What about you? I called after his retreating back, a sour burn rising in my nose. Did you lie to me?
Alexs posture stiffened in the doorway.
He wouldnt look back at me. He didnt answer.
Sixteen-year-old Alex Thorne was terrible at lying.
Thirty-year-old Alex Thornes silence was his answer.
A few seconds later, he called out a cold command to the hallway:
Mrs. Davis! Take every knife, every shard of glass, everything sharp in this house, and destroy it!
If I see the Madame with anything like this again, youre fired!
Mrs. Davis, the housekeeper, shuffled in, mop in hand. As she began to clear up a few objects, she mumbled under her breath:
When will the Madame get better? Mr. Thorne is truly suffering.
Suffering?
I looked down at the slow, meandering lines of blood on my wrist. I opened my mouth, but no sound came out.
Alex, you dont love me anymore.
Why wont you just let me go? Why drag us both through this agony?
Lost in my thoughts, Savannah Wells strode into the villa without bothering to change her shoes.
She looked every bit the lady of the house as she casually reached up to smooth the lapel of Alexs suit jacket, which I must have mussed earlier.
Even looking at the small pool of blood on the carpet, her expression remained perfectly poised and sympathetic.
Liz, she said, stepping toward me with false sincerity. If you're even halfway stable, you should release Alex. Its painful for everyone to watch him suffer like this.
The faint perfume that had trailed Alex into the room suddenly became cloying and intense, making my stomach churn.
I bent over, dry-heaving.
Through blurred vision, I reached out a desperate hand, trying to grab the fabric of Alexs trousers.
The moment my fingers brushed the expensive wool, Savannah gasped dramatically and clutched her abdomen, swaying slightly.
Alex saw my movement and instinctively shoved me.
I tumbled back onto the floor, and the raw wound on my wrist scraped against the rough carpet, creating a fresh, sickening bloom of crimson.
Are you dizzy? Is it your blood sugar? Im taking you to the doctor.
Alex wrapped his arm around Savannah, and they practically ran out together.
Before the door swung shut, Alex looked back at me.
Silhouetted against the light, I couldnt make out his features, but I clearly understood his expression.
It was pure relief, the kind of freedom you get when you finally drop a heavy, suffocating weight.
Our love was over, and his new one was just beginning.
Perhaps the housekeeper was right. Perhaps Alex had truly suffered by my side.
As that thought sank in, the vision of the school-uniformed boy appeared before me again.
He looked at me, and silent tears streamed down his face. He wanted to touch me, but he couldnt.
His fingers trembled in the empty air.
Liz, you are the most beautiful girl I have ever met. Please, leave him.
I lifted my hand and laid it over the boys eyes.
My palm was met with a chilling, empty void.
Ill go with you.
As a wave of suffocating despair washed over me, I felt as though I was truly falling into a single embrace.
Only there.
Only with sixteen-year-old Alex Thorne.
I was eternally loved.
Being loved by Alex Thorne had been the superpower of my youth.
When I was fifteen, my family was ruined and my parents died.
The arrogant boys who had once been my secret admirers cornered me at the school gates, laughing as they shredded my uniform.
It was sixteen-year-old Alex, a furious, caged animal, who fought them all, leaving blood streaming down his face.
The sunset that day was red, like spilled wine.
He screamed at me, his voice ragged:
Run!
Liz! Dont look back! Just run!
When I finally returned to find him, the face that was always so full of fierce pride was bruised and swollen.
But the way he looked at me held a heat that was almost scalding.
Dont be afraid, Liz. You still have me.
He gently wiped a tear from my eye, his warm breath fanning across my face.
It felt so hot, it made me want to cry:
Liz, I, Alex Thorne, will never, ever lie to you. I will always be loyal to you.
The boys vow was solid and profound, scorching my heart.
I didnt know then that a promise is only truly sincere the instant it is spoken.
The year after we were married, that love was eroded by the bottomless pit of my familys debts.
He almost bankrupted himself.
The scorching heat in his gaze was gone, replaced by a deep, hollow fatigue.
After a long, cold stretch of memory, my mind cleared.
Today was our fifth wedding anniversary.
I put on the white dress he used to love and waited from sunset until deep into the night.
No flowers. No embrace.
Just the sterile emptiness of the room and the clamor of the Thorne Groups charity gala live-streaming on my phone.
Even in the massive crowd, I saw him instantly.
He was smiling gently, carefully fastening a necklace around Savannah Wellss throat.
The camera zoomed in. It was a Celestial Promise pendant.
Tiny scattered diamondsstarswere set to embrace and cradle a crescent of silverthe moon.
My breath stopped entirely.
It was the exact design I had sketched in my notebook when I was fifteen.
The day Alex confessed his love, he pointed to that drawing, his voice shaking with earnestness:
Liz, when Im rich someday, I promise Ill have this made.
The stars will never lie to the moon.
And I will never break my promise to you.
Now, he had made it.
And he had fastened it around the neck of another woman.
On the screen, Savannah touched the pendant at her collarbone, a coy, victorious smile on her face.
Thank you, Alex. Its the most meaningful gift Ive ever received.
Alex didnt speak.
But the look in his eyes, as he gazed at Savannah, was utterly doting.
I had only ever seen that expression on the face of the sixteen-year-old boy.
Since then, Id never seen the man smile like that again.
Apparently, even stars could fall.
And moons could be abandoned.
Before I could recover from the sudden suffocation, the gala moved into the charity auction.
The next lot up, the host announced loudly, is the ownership of the Reed Family Legacy Fund.
Watching the numbers flash across the screen, I panicked.
My fingers trembled so violently I could barely hold the phone. I dialed Alexs number over and over.
The moment he picked up, I poured out a plea so desperate it reduced me to dust:
Alex, I accept that you dont love me anymore. Ill sign the divorce papers.
But please, help me one last time. That fund is the last thing my parents left me. I just want to
A brief silence fell on the other end, then his slow, tired voice:
Liz, havent I done enough for you?
I tried to argue, but the call clicked dead.
On the live stream, the auctioneers gavel struck the block with a final, heavy sound.
Congratulations to Wells Angel Investors for the winning bid of thirty million!
The camera cut to Alex in the crowd.
He raised his glass, serene and composed, and offered a calm toast to Savannah.
The light caught the sharp angle of his jawdignified and utterly heartless.
He sold the last piece of my parents memory just to earn a smile from his mistress.
There was no room for a scream, or even a sob.
A massive knot of air pressed against my chest, making it impossible to breathe. I coughed violently.
A taste of metallic sweetness flooded my throat.
I collapsed onto the floor, staring blankly at the dark stain blooming on the carpet.
Alex. You are truly cruel.

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