The Woman He Left to Burn

Ricardo said he had severe cardiac asthma. He couldn't handle stress, and strenuous physical activity was out of the question.

That was his excuse for not touching me. Three years running.

I felt sorry for him. I took over every household chore, spent a fortune on specialty medications, and never once asked him to fulfill his duties as a husband.

Then came the fire at the mountain resort.

A burning beam collapsed and pinned my leg. I was trapped in thick smoke, screaming for him.

He stood at the emergency exit with his hand pressed to his chest, his face twisted with helplessness. "Hathaway, the smoke in there is too thick. If I go in, I won't make it out..."

Then his new assistant cried out from the second floor.

Ricardo didn't hesitate for a single second. He charged straight into the flames and carried that young woman out at a full sprint.

So it wasn't that he couldn't push himself physically.

He just didn't think I was worth dying for.

"Ricardo! Help me!"

Thick smoke churned through the corridors of the mountain resort. Flames raced along the carpet in every direction.

A burning wooden beam had my right leg pinned flat to the ground. The heat was intense enough to sear my skin.

The oxygen was being sucked out of my lungs breath by breath. Every inhale felt like swallowing broken glass.

I stretched my arm toward the emergency exit a dozen feet away, desperate.

Ricardo was standing there, completely unharmed, a wet cloth pressed over his mouth and nose.

"Hathaway! Hold on! I'll get someone!"

He shouted it loud, but his eyes were already pulling back. He was scared, and he was looking for a way out.

"I can't move that beam, and the smoke my asthma..."

He coughed twice, sharp and theatrical, pressing a hand to his chest, doing his best impression of a man who couldn't breathe.

"If I go in there, I'll have an attack. We'll both be trapped."

I stared at him, unable to process what I was seeing.

That was my husband. We'd been together for eight years. Married for three.

For the sake of his so-called cardiac asthma, I had turned down a promotion. Every single day I managed his diet and his medications on schedule.

For three years he hadn't lifted anything heavier than a coffee cup, let alone touched me as a husband.

I thought that was love. I thought it was devotion.

But now, with my life on the line, he wouldn't even try. He had already written me off.

"Ricardo... please..."

The fire was spreading fast. My vision was beginning to blur.

Then, from the staircase at the top of the second floor, a sharp scream cut through the roar of the flames.

"Ricardo! Help! I can't get down!"

Katherine.

The personal assistant Ricardo had hired just last month. Fresh out of college, young, pretty, the kind of girl who found a reason to hover near him in a short skirt every single day.

The moment he heard her voice, every trace of hesitation vanished from his face.

He threw the wet cloth to the ground, and moved like a man possessed sprinting straight into the black smoke, which was far thicker on her side than mine.

"Katherine! It's okay! I'm coming!"

Not one second of doubt.

I watched him take the stairs two at a time through the burning wreckage, the whole structure groaning under his feet.

A few minutes later, Ricardo burst back through the smoke with Katherine in his arms.

He had wrapped his suit jacket tightly around her, one hand shielding the back of her head.

When he passed me, he didn't glance down. Not even once.

His eyes held only the trembling girl pressed against his chest.

"You're safe, Katherine. I've got you. Don't be scared."

His voice was rough from the smoke, but underneath it was a tenderness I had never once heard him use with me.

I watched them disappear into the emergency exit.

Then I heard the crack of another beam giving way above me.

Something inside me collapsed right along with it.

So he wasn't physically incapable after all.

He wasn't afraid of smoke, or death, or an asthma attack.

He simply didn't care enough about me to find out.

By the time the firefighters broke through the window to reach me, I had already slipped into semi-consciousness.

"Miss! Stay with us! Don't close your eyes!"

Cold water from the hose killed the flames around me. Several firefighters worked together to lift the beam and drag me free.

Outside the ambulance, the night air hit me and I doubled over, coughing up a dark mass from deep in my lungs.

My right leg was beyond pain. It had gone completely numb.

They settled me onto a stretcher. Through the crowd, my gaze drifted to the lawn nearby.

Ricardo was down on one knee.

His face was frantic. Both his hands were wrapped around Katherine's, and he was leaning over her, performing rescue breathing with everything he had.

Katherine was in a thin silk nightgown, her body half-collapsed against his chest.

"Katherine, come on, wake up. Don't scare me like this..."

His voice broke. He was nearly crying.

I bit down on my lip until I tasted blood.

One of the firefighters standing beside me followed my gaze. His brow furrowed slowly.

"Is that someone you know? The way that guy ran into a burning building for her, I figured she had to be his wife."

"Where's your husband? I don't see him with you."

I closed my eyes. Tears cut through the ash and soot on my face.

"I don't have a husband," I said quietly.

The firefighter paused, let out a low breath, and wheeled my stretcher toward the ambulance.

Just as the doors were about to close, Ricardo seemed to finally remember something. He spun around.

He saw me on the stretcher blackened, burned, barely recognizable.

His eyes flickered. Almost on reflex, he loosened his grip on Katherine's hand and took a step toward me.

Then Katherine "happened" to wake up at exactly that moment.

She threw her arms around his waist and burst into tears.

"Ricardo... I thought I'd never see you again..."

His feet stopped.

He sank back down, pulled her close, and gently patted her back.

The ambulance doors swung shut.

They cut off that perfect picture of two people who had "found each other through crisis."

And they cut off the last three years of my stupidity and grief.

By the time the hospital finished treating my burns and smoke inhalation, it was the following morning.

The doctors wanted me to stay for observation. I said no.

I dragged my casted right leg out of there on crutches and took a cab back to the home I had spent three years building into something beautiful.

The moment I pushed open the front door, a wave of perfume hit me.

My slippers had been kicked aside in the entryway. In their place sat a pair of pink stilettos.

I swapped my shoes without expression and limped into the living room.

What I found turned my stomach.

Katherine was sprawled across the living room's imported massage chair, completely at ease. The one I had bought last month with my entire year-end bonus spent on relieving Ricardo's supposed "chronic back tension."

She was wearing my limited-edition silk robe. The one I had never once allowed myself to wear.

Ricardo walked out of the kitchen carrying a steaming bowl of soup.

He saw me. His step faltered for just a moment.

Guilt flickered across his face, then disappeared behind a wall of indignation.

"You're back? Why didn't you stay at the hospital a few more days?"

He set the soup on the coffee table. His tone was the same flat indifference you'd use with a stranger who'd wandered into the wrong room.

I kept my eyes on the robe draped over Katherine's body. "Why is she here?"

Katherine startled like a spooked deer and scrambled out of the chair, tugging self-consciously at the hem.

"Hathaway, it's not what you think. The fire took everything I had with me. Mr. Ricardo felt bad for me and offered the guest room for a few days."

"This robe I found it in the closet with the tags still on, so I assumed no one wanted it. I just borrowed it for now. If it bothers you, I'll take it off right now and wash it."

Her eyes were already going red as she said it. She turned toward Ricardo with the look of someone who needed rescuing.

Ricardo stepped forward immediately, positioning himself between Katherine and me.

"Hathaway, what kind of face is that to come home with?"

"Katherine went through a traumatic experience last night. She had nowhere to go. What's wrong with me bringing her back here?"

"It's just a robe. Are you seriously this petty over a piece of clothing?"

I looked at him standing there, all righteous indignation, shielding her like she was something fragile and precious.

"Traumatic experience?"

I pointed at the cast on my leg. My voice came out hoarse and scraped damage from the smoke.

"Ricardo, last night when I was pinned inside that fire, you told me your asthma was too bad to come in."

"But then you sprinted into thicker smoke to save her. So what happened to the asthma? Did the fire burn it away?"

The color flooded into his face.

His eyes shifted sideways. He raised his voice to bury the guilt.

"The firefighters were already coming for you. Katherine was on the second floor with that much fire, she would have died if I hadn't moved. It's not the same."

"Besides, you're strong. You've always been strong. Getting pinned wasn't going to kill you."

"Katherine's health has always been fragile. She can't take what you can."

Strong. Fragile. Convenient.

Because I never complained, never clung to him, kept the household running without asking for anything I apparently forfeited the right to be saved.

I was shaking. I gripped my crutch and stepped forward, reached out and grabbed the collar of Katherine's robe.

"Take it off," I said. Each word slow and flat.

Katherine shrieked and clutched the fabric to her chest. "Ricardo, help me!"

"Hathaway! What is wrong with you!" He shoved me.

I was already unsteady on one leg. The push sent me stumbling backward, and my casted leg slammed hard against the edge of the coffee table.

The pain exploded through my whole body. I hit the floor and sat there, cold sweat breaking out instantly.

Ricardo didn't look at me. He went straight to Katherine, running his hands up her arms, checking her over.

"Are you okay? Did she scare you?"

Once he was satisfied she was unharmed, he turned and looked down at me. His expression was pure contempt.

"Hathaway, when did you become like this?"

"Do you have any idea what you looked like just now? You were acting like a lunatic."

"I'm telling you right now Katherine is staying here. If you can't handle that, you can get out."

I sat on the cold floor and looked up at the two of them.

Three years of everything I'd given. And I got "lunatic" and "get out."

I didn't cry. I didn't scream.

I just pressed a hand against the coffee table and slowly pushed myself to my feet.

"Fine," I said.

I looked at Ricardo. My voice was steady and cold.

"I bought this house outright before we were married. It's in my name."

"The one who needs to leave is you."

Ricardo went still. He clearly hadn't expected that. Not from me the woman who had bent and folded herself for three straight years without breaking.

"Don't push your luck, Hathaway." His jaw tightened.

"Keep this up and we're sleeping in separate rooms. You know my heart can't take this kind of stress. Are you trying to put me in the hospital?"

The same script. Three years of the same script. Any time I held my ground, out came the heart condition, and I'd crumble under the weight of my own guilt.

Not this time.

"Do whatever you want," I said.

I turned and walked toward the master bedroom.

"You have thirty minutes. Take your mistress and get out of my house."

"If you're still here after that, I'm calling the police for unlawful trespass."

I shut the bedroom door behind me and turned the lock.

From the other side came the sound of Ricardo slamming his fists against the door and screaming.

I didn't hear a word of it.

I slid down against the door until I was sitting on the floor, and the tears came quiet and absolute, like a dam giving way.

Three years.

I gave three years of my life to someone who had never once intended to give anything back.

The next day, I pushed through the pain in my leg, got up on my crutches, and showed up to work on time.

Today was the presentation for Grandview Group. I had been the lead on this project for six solid months.

If we won this contract, I'd get a substantial bonus and lock in a promotion to Design Director. It was the position I'd been working toward.

I had pulled countless all-nighters for this. I had revised the designs more times than I could count.

I walked into the office, plugged my USB drive into the computer, and started pulling up the 3D model for one final check.

Katherine walked over carrying a cup of coffee.

She was wearing a fitted blazer and a skirt short enough to be a statement. She spotted me, and the corner of her mouth curved up.

"Morning, Hathaway. How's the leg?"

She said it loudly. Heads turned all around the office.

Then her ankle rolled.

"Oh!"

The entire cup of scalding coffee came down directly onto my laptop keyboard.

The screen flickered twice, then went black. A faint burning smell drifted up from the machine. The motherboard was gone.

Everything in my head went white. "Katherine!"

I shoved myself to my feet and grabbed her by the collar. "That was deliberate."

"Hathaway what are you doing! I didn't mean it!"

Katherine's eyes went red immediately. The tears were right there, ready.

"I lost my footing in the heels if it's such a big deal, I'll pay for the laptop. Why are you being so aggressive?"

She played the wounded victim perfectly. The whole office was watching.

"Come on, is she seriously going after the new girl over a coffee spill?"

"It was an accident. Does she have to grab her like that?"

I laughed, but there was nothing funny about it. I let go.

"Pay for the laptop? The only copy of the 3D model I'm presenting to Grandview Group in thirty minutes was on that drive."

"The client walks through the door in half an hour. What exactly am I supposed to show them?"

I pointed at the security camera mounted above us.

"Let's go. Security office. We pull the footage and settle this right now."

I grabbed her wrist and started moving toward the door.

Katherine struggled and twisted, then suddenly called out toward the end of the hall. "Mr. Ricardo! Help!"

Ricardo came down the hallway in a sharp suit, jaw set, moving fast.

He was VP of the company. He ran things here, and he knew it.

"What is going on out here? Does anyone actually work in this office?"

The room went quiet.

Katherine grabbed his arm like he was a life raft.

"Mr. Ricardo, I swear it was an accident I spilled coffee on Hathaway's computer by mistake, and now she's accusing me of doing it on purpose. She almost hit me..."

Ricardo looked at the smoke still curling up from my laptop. Then he looked at me. His eyes were hard.

"Hathaway. You're a manager. Act like one."

"Making a scene over something like this is completely unprofessional."

I kept my breathing steady.

"Ricardo, that laptop had the final model for the Grandview project."

"She destroyed six months of the company's work. I'm pulling the security footage to find out what actually happened. Is that a problem?"

Ricardo's expression didn't change. "The cameras are down. Maintenance reported it this morning."

He said it without blinking.

"And even if she did it on purpose you're the project lead. Not backing up critical files is on you."

I stared at him. "Are you serious right now?"

"The model file was too large for the company cloud. I finished the final render last night. When exactly was I supposed to back it up? And that's somehow my fault?"

Ricardo cut me off. "Enough. Stop making excuses."

He raised his voice so the whole floor could hear.

"Due to this critical oversight causing irreparable loss to the company Hathaway's performance bonus for the next six months is suspended, effective immediately."

"Furthermore, her candidacy for the Design Director promotion is revoked."

"Katherine will take her place at the Grandview presentation. She prepared a backup proposal. It's rough, but it's something. Better than showing up empty-handed."

The office went completely silent.

Even Katherine looked stunned for a moment. Then her eyes lit up with something she couldn't quite contain.

I stared at Ricardo.

He had let Katherine destroy my work, taken my promotion, handed my presentation slot to the woman who had destroyed it. All in one move. All in public.

"On what authority?" I said through my teeth.

"On the authority of being VP of this company."

He looked down at me with warning in his eyes and satisfaction barely concealed beneath it.

"And you're going to apologize to Katherine right now, in front of everyone. Your behavior this morning was a serious breach of professional conduct."

"If you don't, don't bother coming in tomorrow. I'll make sure you don't work in this industry again."

He thought that would break me.

Just like every fight over the past three years he'd go cold, and I'd cave. Every single time.

I looked at his face. Then I looked at Katherine standing behind him, trying to hide her smile.

I didn't rage. I didn't cry.

I reached over, pulled the ruined USB drive from the port, and dropped it in the trash.

"No need to wait until tomorrow."

"I quit."