I Am His Cure and His Curse
When I woke up, my memory was gone. In its place was a strange affliction: a peculiar scent that clings to my skin, my hair, everything.
A scent that makes Liam retch.
He refused to accept it, to believe in a fate so cruel. He’d force himself to hold me, his body rigid, jaw clenched, until one sweltering afternoon, I reached out to wipe a bead of sweat from his temple. He recoiled, shoving me back, and collapsed, vomiting until there was nothing left.
He knelt there, fists clenched, his eyes bloodshot. “Thea,” he gasped, his voice raw. “Don’t be scared. I’ll get used to it. I promise.”
For me, he gave up a scholarship to his dream school, clawing his way up in the business world until he became a self-made titan. He built a beautiful glass conservatory for me, a sun-drenched cage where his fragile, broken burden could be kept safe.
He gave me everything he had. Everything, except a genuine touch.
I thought this was our tragic, noble battle against destiny.
Until the night I heard him in his study, holding his assistant, Serena. His voice was laced with a dependence and relief I had never, ever heard directed at me.
“Serena, thank God I have you… After I hold her, smelling your perfume is the only thing that brings me back.”
“She saved my life. I owe her that. I have to take care of her forever, I know that, but…”
He paused, a long, ragged breath filling the silence. His voice dropped to a choked whisper.
“But some days, I really wish I had died in that accident. Anything would be better than living like this, day after day, in this hell.”
1
The diffuser I was carrying slipped from my numb fingers, shattering on the hardwood floor. The scent of lavender and my own unshakeable odor bloomed in the air.
Liam burst out of the study, Serena right behind him.
He saw me and froze. In one swift, practiced motion, he pulled Serena behind him, shielding her.
The movement was so fast, so instinctual. A needle of ice plunged straight into my heart.
“Thea…” He took a hesitant step toward me, his face a mask of panic, ready to explain.
But the scent hit him. The color drained from his face, and a choked, gagging sound escaped his throat as he stumbled backward.
Serena was at his side in an instant. She pulled a small, personal respirator from her pocket and expertly fitted it over his mouth and nose.
Her voice was calm, her hand steady on his arm. “Breathe slowly, Liam. It’s okay.”
He leaned against the doorframe, his eyes squeezed shut, chest heaving.
I just stood there, paralyzed, feeling like a child who had broken something priceless.
“I…” I didn’t mean to listen.
The single word was all I managed before his brow furrowed, his face contorting with the effort of holding back another wave of nausea.
I clamped my mouth shut, the rest of the sentence dying in my throat. A chill spread through my limbs.
Serena knelt, gracefully gathering the largest shards of glass. She moved with an easy confidence, as if she were the lady of this house.
“I’ll take care of this,” she said without looking up.
I stared at Liam. He was still gasping for air against the doorframe, his eyes shut, refusing to look at me.
He was in pain. Because of me.
That realization finally broke my paralysis. I turned and fled. Not to the glass conservatory, but straight out the front door of the villa.
It was raining, a cold, biting downpour that plastered my hair to my face.
His voice, laced with panic, chased after me. “Thea! Where are you going? Come back!”
I reached the street, desperately flagging for a car, the rain soaking through my thin dress.
A taxi pulled over. I threw the door open and scrambled inside.
“The old lab facility, west of the city,” I managed, my voice trembling.
In the rearview mirror, I saw Liam run out into the rain. He didn’t have an umbrella; his expensive suit was instantly darkened by the downpour.
He slammed his hand on the window. “Thea, get out of the car! We can talk about this!”
The driver looked at us, confused.
“Please, just drive,” I whispered, lowering my head, unable to watch.
The car pulled away. Through the rear window, I saw him chase us for a few steps before stopping, a helpless figure shrinking in the rain-swept darkness.
I leaned back against the seat, my entire body shaking with a cold that had nothing to do with the weather.
The taxi dropped me outside the abandoned laboratory. It was a derelict skeleton of a building, fenced off and forgotten.
I pushed open the creaking gate and stood in the rain, staring at the place that had shattered my life.
I couldn’t remember any of it. He had told me the story, but it felt like someone else’s life. The only piece of my past I had was a name: Liam Blackwood.
It should have been me, I thought. If I had died, he wouldn’t be in so much pain now.
I don’t know how long I stood there before a black sedan screeched to a halt beside me, sending a plume of water into the air.
Liam stormed out of the driver’s side, his face pale and furious.
He grabbed my arm, his grip so tight it hurt.
“What are you doing here?” he roared, his eyes shot through with red veins of anger and fear. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been looking for you?”
He practically threw me into the passenger seat and slammed the door.
Back in the driver's seat, he slammed his fist against the steering wheel.
“Thea Reed!” he seethed, his breath coming in ragged gasps. “Do you have to put me through this? Do you enjoy watching me lose my mind over you?”
His voice was a raw thunder in the enclosed space of the car, making my ears ring.
I looked at his enraged face, at his rain-soaked, disheveled state, and I could smell it. That scent. My scent.
I had made him sick again. I had been thoughtless again.
“I’m sorry… I’m causing trouble for you again,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.
It was as if all the anger drained out of him at once. He slumped back against his seat and closed his eyes.
The only sounds were his harsh breathing and the inescapable scent of me.
The rain had softened to a drizzle by the time we got back to the villa.
Serena was waiting by the gate, holding an umbrella. She hurried over as our car approached.
Liam got out first.
She immediately tilted the umbrella to cover him, leaving her own shoulder exposed to the rain.
“Liam,” she said, her voice a mixture of chiding and concern as she handed him a glass of water and a few pills. “You know you can’t get chilled. You forgot your medication.”
Then, as if just noticing me, she gave me a brief, dismissive glance.
I slid out of the car, drenched and shivering, and watched them.
Liam took the pills and water without a word, a gesture so practiced it was clear this was their routine.
He looked at me then, his mouth opening as if to say something.
But I didn’t want to hear it.
I walked past them, into the house, up the stairs to my bedroom, and locked the door behind me.
Seconds later, his footsteps pounded down the hall. He tried the knob.
“Open the door, Thea! We need to talk.” His voice was a low growl, tight with repressed anger and exhaustion.
Talk? About what?
I walked to the window and pushed it open. A cold, damp wind gusted in, making me shudder. The garden below was a blur in the misty rain.
I stared down at the manicured lawn.
“If you push me any further,” I said, my voice quiet but clear enough to carry through the door, “I’ll jump.”
The rattling of the doorknob stopped.
The world went silent, save for the gentle patter of the rain.
I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the floor, hugging my knees to my chest and burying my face.
The tears finally came, hot and silent, mingling with the cold rainwater in my hair.
I had made him angry again.
I was his problem again.
What do I have to do, I sobbed into my knees, to stop being his pain?
The footsteps outside the door retreated.
I stayed there all night, leaning against the cold wood, and drifted into a fitful sleep just as the sun came up.
2
The next morning, a knock came again.
It was the maid. “Miss Reed, Mr. Blackwood would like you to come downstairs.”
I opened the door. Liam was standing at the top of the stairs, dressed immaculately in a dark suit. His face was drawn and tired, but his expression was calm, resolute.
“Get dressed. I’m taking you somewhere.”
“Where?”
“A clinic. You need to see a doctor.”
I looked at him, at the dark circles under his eyes. He hadn’t slept either. Was it from worry, or from anger at me?
“I’m not sick,” I said softly.
“You threatened to kill yourself yesterday,” he stated, his gaze unblinking, complicated. “What would you call that?”
I lowered my head, unable to argue.
The car pulled up to a high-end private clinic downtown. The interior was sleek and sterile. Liam spoke with the doctor in an inner office, leaving the door slightly ajar.
I sat on a plush sofa outside, catching fragments of their conversation.
“She’s become more and more erratic lately,” Liam’s voice was strained, laced with a weary frustration. “Her moods are unstable. Yesterday, she ran off…”
Erratic. Unstable.
The words were like thorns pressing into my heart. So that’s what I was to him now. Not just a burden, but an unstable one.
The clinic’s front door opened and Serena walked in, carrying a file folder.
“Liam,” she said, pushing the office door open without knocking. “These need your urgent signature.”
Through the gap in the door, I saw Liam rubbing his temples, the picture of exhaustion.
Serena moved behind him, her movements fluid and natural, and began to gently massage his temples.
He didn’t pull away. He leaned back into her touch.
The sight was so sharp it made my eyes burn.
I shot up from the sofa and walked toward the exit.
Liam saw me. He rushed out and grabbed my wrist. “The session isn’t over. Where are you going?”
His touch was a shock.
And at that exact moment, a wave of nausea roiled in my stomach. Maybe it was the empty stomach, or maybe it was the tidal wave of emotion.
I doubled over, a violent gag reflex taking over. I threw up right there on the polished floor.
Some of it splattered onto his expensive trousers and handcrafted leather shoes.
The foul smell filled the air.
He recoiled as if he’d been burned, flinging my hand away and stumbling back, his face a mask of undisguised disgust.
“Thea, why are you always like this?” he yelled, his voice cracking with a decade of frustration and fury.
Always like this. Always making a mess. Always causing him pain.
Serena was there instantly, stepping between us with a handful of tissues, carefully dabbing at his trousers.
“It’s okay, Liam, don’t be angry. I’ll clean it up.”
She knelt at his feet, tending to the mess with meticulous care, as if his suit were a holy relic.
And I stood there, covered in my own filth, a repulsive, superfluous piece of trash.
I looked at them, a sharp, twisting pain in my chest.
I turned and ran from the clinic.
The sunlight was blinding. I walked aimlessly, with no destination in mind.
I stopped in front of a bridal shop.
In the window, a mannequin wore a stunning satin gown, its design simple and impossibly elegant.
It looked so familiar. I stared, my mind a blank.
Then, a flicker. A hazy, broken memory…
A younger me, years ago, standing on this very spot, pointing at this very dress, smiling at the boy beside me.
“Liam, that’s the one. That’s the dress I’m going to wear.”
Back then, there was no neurotoxin. No scent. No Serena.
Back then, when he looked at me, he was smiling.
“Thea.”
Liam’s voice, coming from behind me.
He had followed me.
I didn’t turn around, my eyes still fixed on the wedding dress.
He came to stand beside me, his gaze following mine to the window.
He saw the dress.
The anger on his face slowly dissolved, replaced by a complex, unreadable expression.
He just stood there, looking from the dress to me and back again.
His mouth opened, then closed. He said nothing.
The two of us, disheveled and miserable, standing like fools before the brightly lit window of a bridal boutique.
The space between us was so much more than a few feet of pavement.
3
In the end, Liam said nothing. He just led me back to the car and drove me to the villa.
We didn’t speak for days.
The silence was broken on the morning of his mother’s birthday. He knocked on my door early.
“Get ready. We’re going to the family estate tonight. Mom wants to see you.”
I knew it wasn’t a request.
That evening, I wore the new dress he’d had sent over. I sat in the back of the car. He drove, with Serena in the passenger seat.
They talked about work the entire way.
I didn’t understand any of it, so I just watched the city lights blur past my window.
The estate was buzzing with people. As we entered, all eyes turned to me.
I caught a faint whiff of my own scent and instinctively tried to shrink away from the crowd.
Mrs. Blackwood sat at the head of the dining table, her face a neutral mask.
“You’re here. Sit,” she commanded.
Serena walked right up to her, presenting a gift. “Happy birthday, Eleanor.”
“Serena, dear. Always so thoughtful,” Mrs. Blackwood said, taking her hand. “So much more capable than some people.”
A dull ache spread through my chest. In her eyes, I would always be the thoughtless, useless burden. For ten years, I had tried so desperately to earn her approval, and I still couldn’t get a single crumb of it.
During dinner, Mrs. Blackwood suddenly set down her fork.
“Liam, it’s time to settle things.”
The table fell silent.
“Serena is the only one fit to be a Blackwood,” she announced, her voice low but carrying to every corner of the room. “She’s capable, she’s from a good family, and most importantly, you can have a normal life with her.”
The words struck me like a physical blow. I dug my nails into my palms, the fabric of my dress bunching in my fists.
A chorus of relatives chimed in.
“She’s right, Liam. It’s time to make a decision.”
“You can’t just drag this on forever… What about the family line? An heir?”
I kept my head down, tears stinging my eyes. I fought them back. I would not cry here. I would not give them the satisfaction.
Liam said nothing. He just took a sip of his wine.
I stood, needing to escape. “Excuse me, I need the restroom.”
As I passed Serena, she “accidentally” knocked over her wine glass. Red wine splashed all over my dress.
“Oh, I am so sorry,” she said, her face devoid of any actual apology.
The dress was soaked, clinging unpleasantly to my skin.
“Go change in the guest room,” Mrs. Blackwood said dismissively.
I nodded, fleeing the dining room.
But when I opened the closet in the guest room, it was filled with Serena’s clothes. Business suits, casual wear, even pajamas.
It was as if something seized my heart and squeezed, hard.
There was no place for me here anymore. Even a closet was a reminder that I was an intruder.
So, she stayed here often?
“What’s taking so long?”
Liam pushed the door open. He saw me staring at the closet and his brow furrowed.
“What is it now, Thea?” His voice was heavy with exhaustion.
I pointed a trembling finger at the rows of clothes. “There’s no room for me here anymore.”
He glanced at the closet and was silent for a moment.
“It’s temporary. Serena’s been staying over to keep Mom company.”
A burning sensation rose in my throat, but I swallowed it down. In his mind, had I already been cleared out, too?
It was late when the party finally wound down.
Liam turned to me. “I’m giving Serena a ride home. It’s on the way.”
Serena stood beside him, a faint, triumphant smile on her lips.
I watched their backs as they walked away together. I didn’t move.
The staff began to clear the tables, no one paying me any mind.
I walked out the front door and sat on the cold stone steps.
The night was deep, the wind cold.
I just sat there. And waited.
I waited as the lights in the great house went out one by one. I waited as the moon climbed high overhead.
He never came back.
It must have been very on the way. So on the way that he forgot someone was waiting for him.
4
I sat on the steps of the estate until dawn, my body stiff with cold.
When Liam’s car finally pulled into the driveway, he saw me, and his brow immediately creased into a frown.
“You sat here all night?” he asked, his tone laced with accusation. “Are you trying to make yourself sick? To make me feel even more guilty?”
A sharp pain lanced through me. I lowered my head.
The next day, he took us to a beach resort.
Serena, of course, came along.
I was given a detached cabin, the furthest one from the main lodge.
“It’s quieter here. You can rest,” he’d said.
I knew the truth. He was afraid my scent would disturb the other guests. Especially Serena.
That night, the sea wind howled.
A familiar tightness seized my throat. My asthma was flaring up.
My hands trembled as I fumbled for my emergency inhaler. I pressed it to my lips and sprayed, but nothing happened. It was just a weak puff of air.
I held the canister up to the faint light. It had been replaced with a saline solution.
Gasping, I stumbled out of the cabin and ran toward the main lodge.
On the terrace, Liam’s deep voice drifted on the wind.
“Mom, I know Serena is the better choice.” He paused, his voice thick with a conflict that tore me apart. “But Thea… she ended up this way because of me. I can’t just throw her away…”
His words were icicles, piercing the last fragile flicker of hope in my heart.
So that’s all it was. Responsibility.
Just then, Serena stepped out from the shadows, a cold smile on her face.
“Did you hear that?” she hissed, backing me toward the top of the stairs. “To him, you are nothing but guilt and obligation. Your life is a stain he can never wash away!”
I tried to speak, to fight back, but my throat was closing, no air could get through. She suddenly lunged, shoving me hard.
“Why won’t you just disappear?”
I cried out as I tumbled backward down the stone staircase. My head struck the sharp edge of a step, and a warm rush of blood instantly blurred my vision.
I heard frantic footsteps.
Liam.
Serena’s expression changed in a flash. She threw herself into his arms, her voice a tragic sob. “Liam! She just attacked me… she tried to push me!”
Liam saw the blood streaming down my face. A flicker of panic crossed his eyes before it was consumed by a towering inferno of rage.
“Thea Reed! Look at what you’ve become!” he roared. “What are you capable of besides causing endless, endless trouble? What do you want from me? Do you want me to pay for it with my life, right here, right now? Would that finally make you happy?”
I looked at him, and the last bit of light inside me went out.
My very existence was the crime.
I struggled to my feet, blood dripping from my forehead onto my chest. I dragged my injured leg, which felt like it belonged to a stranger, and staggered step by agonizing step toward the dark, churning ocean.
The water surged around my ankles, cold as death.
My body sank, the icy sea pressing in from all sides, stealing the last of my breath, the last of my warmth.
In the final second before consciousness dissolved into an endless dark, I thought I heard a soul-tearing scream from the shore.
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