Love You to Death

My ex-girlfriend, the award-winning actress Pamela Cahill, was filming a live reality show about revisiting her hometown when she stumbled upon a grave with my name on it.

Etched onto the headstone was a QR code, with the words Brads Last Tapes carved above it in a playful, almost whimsical font.

She frowned at the camera, her disgust palpable.

Brad, youre the one who insisted on breaking up. What is this? What new game are you playing to get my attention?

Im with someone else now.

The someone else she was referring to was a rising star, Julian Cole.

The livestream chat exploded with comments, calling me a toxic ex who couldnt let go, a ghost from her past that refused to stay buried. The vitriol flowed until a single comment cut through the noise:

[Did none of you scan the code? I think I think hes actually dead.]

Pamelas annoyance deepened at the sight of the comment, her usually calm and composed expression cracking.

Hell do anything to get my attention, wont he? Its pathetic.

The viewers chimed in with teasing remarks:

[The only person who can rattle the unshakable Pamela Cahill is her clingy ex.]

[Seriously. Hes the one who dumped her. Now that shes famous, he crawls out of the woodwork every other day to get a headline.]

[Yeah, I heard he sent her letters and gifts just last week. No way hes dead.]

Fueled by the audiences skepticism, the shows production crew scanned the code and broadcast the video that loaded.

The first frame was me, holding a cancer diagnosis report, letting out a long, forced sigh of relief.

Hey. Its day one. Day one of my diagnosis, and day one of our breakup. Happy breakup, Pamela.

Sorry for ending things so suddenly. The last thing I wanted was to drag you down with me.

I was dressed in a sharp suit, trying to look bright and handsome, but it couldnt hide the deathly pallor of my skin.

Let me guess, youre crying, right? A career slump and a breakup hitting all at once thats got to hurt.

But hey, youll bounce back. I know you will.

As it turned out, my predictions in the video had all come true.

Someone dug through Pamelas old Instagram posts and found a series of bleak, melancholic captions from the days right after our breakup. The reigning ice queen of Hollywood, revealed to be so heartbroken and vulnerable, became a trending topic for days.

Back then, Pamela had quickly archived all those old posts, leaving only one public statement:

[I have someone better by my side now.]

It was right when her historical drama had become a massive hit. Her co-star, the male lead, was the popular young actor Julian Cole.

And he had liked that post.

Pamela really had moved on quickly. Her fans were thrilled for her.

Dont worry, though, I said in the video. I dont plan on bothering you. I just wanted to leave something behind.

Ive never asked for anything, Pamela. Just this once let me be selfish.

As I said that, my voice choked, the sound catching in my throat. The confident, handsome man from the start of the video seemed to shrink, replaced by a small, fragile boy.

Perhaps not wanting anyone to see me in such a state, the first video cut off abruptly.

[Date: April 9, 2019. Weather: Overcast. Hate lasts longer than love.]

Day two of the breakup. Its an overcast day. Perfect for feeling miserable, right?

I was in my pajamas at home, brushing my teeth with one hand while holding up my phone with the other, showing Pamelas sad posts on the screen.

Looks like youre taking it pretty hard. But Im sure youll get over it soon! I said, my voice light, a gentle smile fixed on my face.

The livestream chat erupted in defense of Pamela:

[She was heartbroken over him for so long, and he just drops a casual get over it? Youd have more feelings for a dog you had for seven years! Hes a monster!]

[Exactly. He doesnt even look sick. Hes probably faking it for clout. I hope something bad really does happen to him!]

[Just die already and stop torturing our Pamela!]

In the video, after I spoke, I fell silent. The camera shifted to focus on my phone screen, showing a comment Id left on her post from a burner account:

[Even when youre sad, remember to eat and rest well. A fan who will always support you!]

Pamela had replied almost immediately:

[Only one person used to care about things like that. Did you think I wouldnt recognize you just because youre using a different account?]

[So, Brad, whats the point of this fake sympathy? Are you here to laugh at me?]

I stared at her words, frozen. After a long moment, I slowly typed back:

[Yeah. Its exactly what you think.]

There was no reply. When I refreshed her profile, I found that she had blocked me.

The chat filled with cheers:

[YES! Get him! Our queen knows her worth. She deserves so much better!]

[This must be when she started building that tough, ice-queen persona. We should thank this asshole for that.]

[Still, Im so curious about what she was like before all this.]

[Dont be. That must have been the darkest time of her life.]

The flood of hateful comments obscured the screen. No one noticed the boy in the corner of the frame, clutching his phone, his eyes turning red.

[Date: May 2, 2019. Weather: Sunny. I want you to be happy more than anyone.]

Today cough came to see you in secret.

The moment the boy in the video appeared on screen, the barrage of angry comments suddenly stopped.

Surprised to see me like this? To be honest, Im not used to it either. It took a lot of courage to even get in front of the camera.

The boy was wearing an ill-fitting wig, his cheeks hollowed out to a frightening degree. Yet, his face still held that familiar, gentle smile.

The camera panned to show the set of Pamelas first breakout role. She was playing the second female lead, acting opposite Julian Cole, who was then also a supporting actor.

Amid a sea of fans cheering for the main actress, I stood in a quiet corner, holding a small sign with Pamelas name on it, silently watching her perform.

She had matured so much. Her features were sharper, her presence more commanding.

The cheers for the lead actress grew louder. In the chaotic noise, on some strange impulse, I called out her name.

The next second, as if shed heard me through the din, she looked up.

Our eyes met. I immediately dropped my head, my heart hammering against my ribs. It was only for a second, but it was enough to make me flee the set before the scene was even over.

Phew You didnt see me, right?

I was hiding in an alleyway, congratulating myself on my quick escape, when a firm hand gripped my wrist.

You break my heart and then you come back to spy on me? Is this fun for you, Brad?

Pamela was breathing heavily, her brow furrowed in anger. But the moment she got a clear look at my face, she froze.

You havent you been sleeping?

I quickly composed myself, turning my head away. Yeah, I said, my voice cold. My new girlfriend keeps me up all night. Shes a lot better than you.

Her face instantly flushed with fury. Brad! You son of a bitch!

Her words were cut short by Julians voice from behind her. Pamela, whyd you run off mid-scene? The director is pissed. Are you okay?

Hearing him, Pamela let out a heavy breath and released my wrist. You once told me people who betray love deserve to swallow a thousand needles. That was you.

Forget it. Just dont come back here again.

I kept my head down, saying nothing.

She turned and walked away. I could hear Julian asking, Who was that? A friend of yours? and Pamelas reply, clear and cold:

No one important.

A bitter wave washed over me. By the time I looked up, tears had already blurred my vision.

See, I whispered to the camera. I told you youd grow stronger.

Youre right. Im the one who betrayed our love. So let all the bad karma come to me. All I want is for you to be happy.

[Date: June 3, 2019. Weather: Sunny. Not a difficult decision.]

Across the coffee table sat a sophisticated man. He took an elegant sip of his drink and looked up at me.

You want to hire me as Pamela Cahills manager? You know my rates are among the highest in the industry.

Someone in the livestream chat recognized him. It was David Carter, the legendary agent. With him on her side, Pamelas path to stardom had become infinitely smoother. Pamela had thanked him publicly more than once, but his response was always a quiet, detached:

It was just a business transaction.

Now, watching the video from the studio, David Carter slowly lifted his head, his eyes beginning to redden.

In the video, I nodded firmly and pushed a bank card across the table.

Mr. Carter, this has ninety-seven thousand, six hundred and forty-three dollars. Its my entire life savings.

Davids eyes glanced at the card, his voice unchanged. Im a businessman, son. You understand that this isnt nearly enough for me to tie my career to some unknown actress.

I bit my lip.

The next second, I took off the wig, revealing my gaunt, ravaged face.

It was the first time I had shown myself on camera without any disguise since getting sick. The livestream chat fell into a stunned silence.

Sir, to be honest with you, I have stomach cancer. I dont have much time left.

Shes the only thing I cant let go of. I believe in her. I know she can make it big.

I know this money isnt enough to sway you, but Ill sign over the rights to this video series Im recording before I die. Whatever revenue they generate can be my payment. Please? My voice was tinged with desperation.

David stared at me for a long time before speaking. And what about you? Youve planned all this for her, but youre just going to die quietly in a corner?

If you used this money for treatment, you might live longer

He trailed off as I shook my head with a faint smile.

I cant drag her down. Weve already been through enough hardship together.

Its okay. Im not afraid of dying. Im just afraid of her crying if she saw me like this.

My expression was calm, but the tremor in my voice betrayed me.

The silence stretched. David looked up at the ceiling, blinking hard, before taking a deep breath.

Okay. Ill do it.

[Date: July 1, 2019. Weather: Rainy. Its time to let go.]

The moment I got through the door, the camera slipped from my hand and fell to the floor. A violent, searing pain in my stomach hit so fast I didnt even have time to turn it off.

It was a thousand needles stabbing me from the inside. I curled up on the floor beside my bed, cold sweat pouring down my face.

In a haze of agony, I subconsciously dialed Pamelas number.

After a few short rings, the line connected, but there was only silence on the other end.

Of course. She must hate my guts. Why would she answer my call?

Tears mixed with sweat as I dug my nails into my own arm, but the words still tumbled out in a trembling, delirious whisper.

It hurts so much Pamela It hurts.

I dont want to die Im so scared

My voice was almost a sob, punctuated by ragged, painful breaths. In that moment, death became terrifyingly real, a tidal wave of fear threatening to swallow me whole.

Then, through the static, a hoarse voice came from the phone.

Where are you? Im coming to find you right now.

Her words jolted me back to reality.

She had answered.

On pure instinct, I hung up. But it was too late. Pamela came.

She stood outside my apartment, knocking on the door over and over.

The pain had subsided into a dull ache. I leaned against the other side of the door, my eyes squeezed shut.

Go away, Pamela, I managed to say, my voice raw. I dont want to see you.

Her voice exploded with rage. Is this a game to you, Brad? Do you get some sick pleasure out of messing with me?

You call, and I drop everythinga multi-million dollar ad campaignand come running to you like a pathetic dog. And for what? What is the point of this?

Brad, what did I ever do to deserve this from you?

Her fist slammed against the old, metal security door.

Silence descended. I bit down hard on my lip to keep from crying out. The old doors in this building had terrible soundproofing. I could hear her on the other side, her voice breaking into quiet, choked sobs, like an abandoned puppy.

I dont know how long she stood there before her voice came again, soft and pleading.

One last time, Brad. Treat me like a dog, use me for fun, break my heart all over againI dont care. Ill take it.

Just let me see you one last time. Please.

She was met with only silence.

I dont know if she waited for three hours or the entire night.

But I knew one thing with absolute certainty: I could not open that door.

It was time to let go. For me, and for her.