
He Chose Her Every Single Time, And I Left
Coralie Sullivan · Completed · 9.8k Words
Introduction
But when the police pulled us from the wreck, Gregory ran past my stretcher—straight to her.
"Marcella! Oh my god, what did you do?" He held her while I lay there covered in blood.
Gregory came to me later, crying and apologizing. I softened. I forgave him.
I had no idea that was just the beginning.
Chapter 1
Harper's POV
I opened my eyes to the smell of leather and pine air freshener.
My head was pounding. Everything felt wrong, the angle of my body, the tightness around my wrists, the vibration beneath me. I blinked hard, trying to focus.
I was in a car that was moving way too fast.
What the hell?
My hands were zip-tied to the door handle and when I tried to speak I realized there was tape across my mouth. Fear shot through my chest so hard I couldn't breathe.
Someone was in the driver's seat.
I turned my head and my stomach dropped.
It was her. That girl from Gregory's neighborhood. I'd only seen her once, yesterday, when we arrived. She'd been standing at the end of the driveway, staring at us. Gregory had waved awkwardly and hurried me inside.
Why am I in her car? Why am I tied up?
I tried to piece it together. Gregory and I had come back to Oregon to prepare for the wedding. His parents' house, the boxes of decorations in the living room, his mom showing me her grandmother's veil. This morning, no, this afternoon, I'd offered to pick up the wedding cake from the café in town. Gregory stayed behind to help his dad with something.
The parking lot. I'd been walking to my car with the cake box.
Then nothing.
No, not nothing. A sharp pain in my back. A buzzing sound. My legs giving out.
She tased me.
My breath came faster and started fogging up the tape over my mouth. I made a sound—muffled, desperate—and tried to move my hands. The zip ties cut into my skin.
"You're awake." Her voice was flat. She didn't even look at me. Her hands gripped the steering wheel so tight.
I tried to talk through the tape but it came out as frantic humming.
She ignored me.
"You know what's funny?" she said, like we were having a normal conversation. "I waited eight years. Eight years for him to come back. And then he does, and he brings you."
The car swerved slightly. I looked out the window and my heart stopped.
We were on a mountain road. One side was sheer rock wall. The other side was nothing, just a drop into darkness and trees far below.
"Please—" I tried to say it through the tape but it sounded like a whimper.
"I tried to be patient," she continued, her voice rising. "I thought maybe you were just temporary. Maybe he was just having fun before coming home to me. But then I heard about the wedding. The wedding."
She laughed.
"So I realized, you have to go. That's the only way. You die, and Gregory comes back to me. Simple."
Oh my god. Oh my god, she's going to kill me.
I thrashed against the zip ties, trying to reach the door handle, trying to do anything, but the tape muffled my screams.
"Stop moving!" she shrieked. The car jerked to the right and we were so close to the edge I could see rocks tumbling down the cliff face.
She took a breath and steadied the wheel. When she spoke again, her voice was eerily calm.
"He'll forget about you. Just like he forgot about all the others. I'm the only one who matters. I'm the only one who's always been there."
Tears streamed down my face. I couldn't breathe through my nose fast enough and black spots started dancing at the edges of my vision.
Then I heard it, a siren, distant but getting closer.
Her head whipped toward the rearview mirror. "No!"
She slammed her foot on the gas.
The car lurched forward and the speedometer kept climbing, 85, 90. Trees blurred past and the curves in the road came faster and faster.
"They can't stop this," she muttered. "They can't stop us. This is meant to be—"
I saw the curve ahead, sharp, almost 90 degrees, and she wasn't slowing down.
We're going to die. We're both going to die.
I closed my eyes.
The impact was metal screeching and glass shattering and my body thrown forward against the seatbelt. The airbag erupted into my face. Sound and pain and then—
Nothing.
Voices. Shouts. The screech of metal being pried apart.
I couldn't move or think. Everything was white noise and stabbing pain in my chest where the seatbelt had caught me.
"Ma'am? Ma'am, can you hear me?"
Hands touching my face, checking my pulse. Someone was cutting the zip ties and peeling away the tape. I gasped for air.
"You're okay. You're safe now. We've got you."
They lifted me onto a stretcher and when I looked up the sky was deep purple.
I'm alive. Oh god, I'm alive.
A sob tore out of my throat. I couldn't stop it. My whole body started shaking and I couldn't catch my breath. The tears came hot and fast, blurring everything around me. I'd thought I was going to die. I'd closed my eyes on that curve and accepted that I was going to die on this mountain road, and now I was alive and I couldn't stop crying.
"It's okay, honey. You're safe now. You're okay." One of the paramedics squeezed my shoulder gently.
But I wasn't okay. Every time I closed my eyes I saw that curve rushing toward us, felt the terror of knowing we were going to crash.
I turned my head, trying to see where they'd taken her, trying to understand what had just happened to me. Paramedics were working on the car, pulling her out of the driver's side. Police were there too, voices crackling on radios.
And then I saw Gregory.
He jumped out of a car that had pulled up behind the ambulance and his face was white with terror.
He came for me.
Fresh tears spilled down my face but these were different. Relief crashed through me so hard I felt dizzy. "Gregory," I tried to say but it came out as a broken whisper. I lifted my hand toward him, my fingers trembling.
But he ran past my stretcher.
He ran to her.
"Marcella!" His voice cracked. "Marcella, oh my god, what did you do?"
My hand dropped back onto the stretcher.
What?
He grabbed her shoulders as the police tried to hold her. She was crying, and she collapsed against him.
"I just—I just love you so much, Gregory," she wailed. "I can't live without you. I can't—"
His arms went around her. Instinct, maybe. But he held her.
I lay on the stretcher, staring at them.
A paramedic blocked my view, shining a light in my eyes, asking questions I couldn't hear over the ringing in my ears.
In the ambulance, as they loaded me in, I saw her face one more time. She was looking at me through the window of the police car and she was smiling.
Her lips moved. I could read them perfectly.
See? He cares about me.
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