A Bride Worth Billions (28 page)

Rachelle

“Poor girl.” Arlene said as she shook her head while reading the newspaper.

It was already the morning after and the story of what happened with Ashton and the dead girl was already in the newspaper. Apparently, the girl had been kidnapped, drugged and tortured by the two men who had now already been captured by the police.

“What was her name?” I asked.

“Well . . .“ She paused and cleared her throat. “Coincidentally, her first name was Rachelle, too.”

We both fell silent until a nurse came in and checked Ashton again. They had been constantly monitoring his vital signs as they were steadily below normal except for when it was 4 a.m. earlier. His heartbeat suddenly went up to normal rate for only a few minutes but then it went down again.

When the nurse went out, I reached for Ashton’s forehead and gave it a soft kiss. “You have to fight, Ashton. Fight to live.”

Ashton

“What’s this I’m hearing?” I asked her. We were back in the school again and were sitting on a bench by the school cafeteria. I didn’t know how but her head found its way to lean on my shoulder. I wanted to push her away but stopped myself from doing so. I felt like I was now stuck with her.

“What do you mean?” She asked.

“I constantly hear my girlfriend—“

“You’re already dead.” She interrupted. “She’s alive. You don’t belong to each other anymore.”

“Bu—“ I was cut off again.

“You have to set her free, Ash.” She said soothingly. “Don’t listen to the voices in your head. Your mind is just making those up because you still can’t fully accept the reality of your death. Once you fully accept it, those voices will be gone forever, trust me.”

You have to fight Ashton.

I tried to ignore it but I couldn’t. The voice sounded so warm and hypnotizing. It felt home.

Fight to live.

I want to li—

“What is it?” The R girl asked, interrupting my train of thoughts. “If it’s that voice again, ignore it!” She looked so angry that I wanted to walk away from her.

“I want to li---“

“Don’t dare say it!”

“I want to live.” I said directly to her face. “For Rachelle and for my mother.”

I could feel my heart beating faster and louder.

“I want to live.” With that, my vision went blank and what I could only is light all around me. I didn’t know exactly when but I fell out of consciousness.

Rachelle

I felt a hand soothing my hair. Although I knew I was sleeping, it felt like I wanted to sleep again if that was possible. I heard a soft giggle somewhere behind but I just squeezed my arms more around me. “Ssshhh” I heard a gentle voice. “Let her sleep.”

His voice sounded very much like that of Ashton’s. Thinking of Ashton, I remembered that I was still in the hospital, with him still unconscious on the bed. I must be imagining things. I got up without opening my eyes and stretched my aching arms. They felt a little numb and my eyes still felt too heavy.

I heard another giggle and so I opened my eyes and saw Arlene stifling a laugh and looking so happy seated on the sofa. “Is that sofa so comfy that you’re laughing at it?”

“You just look so damn cute.” A male voice said so I spun my head quickly on Ashton’s direction. He was still there on the bed but his eyes were opened and he was smiling at me.

“You.”

He chuckled. “Me.”

I ran towards him and hugged him tight. He let out a painful groan. “Can’t you see I have a neck brace?”

“Of course I know that, you idiot!” I sobbed. “I was looking at you for so many hours that I already memorized how many pores you have on your face.”

“Now, that’s so creepy of you.”

“Yeah.” I nodded. “And I love you, too.”

I stayed in the hospital for about a week until the doctor was finally convinced that I was already ready to be taken home. My mom and Rachelle were helping me pack my things inside the hospital room when I told them that I wanted to visit Rachelle’s grave. The
other
Rachelle.

“Well you can but don’t you want to go home first?” My mom asked me.

“Mom, please.” I pleaded.

She looked at Rachelle for her opinion and she gust gave her a big smile. My mom looked back at me. “Fine but we’ll go with you.”

“Of course.”

My mom had to drive thirty five minutes to get us to the cemetery where the black-haired Rachelle was buried. She decided to stay in the car while Rachelle,
my
Rachelle accompanied me.

We walked for only a few meters away from where my mom’s car was parked to reach her grave. Written on the gravestone was:

In loving memory

of

Rachelle Balkhali

December 12, 1994

to

June 22, 2015

“I hope she’s at peace now.” Rachelle whispered beside me after she placed and lit two candles on the grave.

“I do hope so.” I said as I took her hand.

“Your letter.” She reminded me and so I fished the folded letter out of the back pocket of my jeans.

I’d written that letter the night before and Rachelle was there with me the whole time. I had told everything that happened while I was unconscious and she believed me.

I had also remembered what happened that night. I remembered when the cold steel touched the back of my neck. I thought he was going to shot right away but he hit me with the back of the gun so strongly that I had to wear a neck brace for days in the hospital. I remembered when they repeatedly punched and kicked every spot on my body. I remembered when they decided that it was finally time to end my life. They’d shot me multiple times.

The last thing I remembered was muttering Rachelle’s name before falling into darkness.

I placed the folded letter and put it inside the flower vase that was already in place.

“Rest in peace.”

Dear Ms. Rachelle,

              I’m sorry for not being able to help you or more accurately, for not even trying to help you. I was so scared and selfish that I only thought of my own safety. I won’t beg for you to understand as I can’t even understand myself.

              I also want you to know that I understand why you wanted me to die as well. You wanted me to give up and stop fighting to live but I’m sorry. As much as I wanted to make up for the things I’ve done or what I should have done, I can’t just leave my mom and Rachelle. I love them both and even things were tough between me and Rachel during that fateful day, the near-death experience I had made me realized that I truly cherish her and I can’t live without her in my life.

              May you finally rest in peace, R.

-
     
A.

Rachelle and I were walking away from the grave and towards the car when I suddenly felt cold all over my body.

“What’s wrong?” She asked as she paused walking and examined my face.

I shook my head. “Nothing.”

We got inside the car with me beside my mom in the front and Rachel sitting on the back seat. “You both okay?” My mom asked and we nodded at her. “Let’s go, then.” She said as she started the car.

My mom was talking the whole time inside the car that I didn’t notice that Rachel had been very silent. When our car was already on the freeway, I looked back at Rachelle to ask if she wanted to spend the night at our home. I didn’t get to ask her as I noticed her pale expression.

“Rach, what’s happening? You look pale.” I asked worriedly.

“I’m okay.” She said but the way she caught her breath said otherwise.  She started to unhook her seat belt.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“I can’t breathe.”

“No!” I heard my mom suddenly shouted beside me as she stepped on the brake.

The next thing I saw was Rachelle already thrown out of the window, over the hood of the car and shattered glasses and blood everywhere.

You can’t live without her.

I suddenly heard a familiar voice whispered just behind my ear.

Now she’s gone.

Problem solved.

In loving memory

Of

Rachelle Hunters

October 21, 1994

To

June 30, 2015

Your memories will always live in our hearts

THE END

I could feel my stomach churning and grumble with anxiety as the car came closer to the campus. I was not prepared nor was I up for this. Law school was not my cup of tea. I had spent 2 years in high school, studying law as an optional subject and I still couldn’t decipher basic concepts. 2 years and I still didn’t know who or what a plaintiff was! It’s not like I was dumb or anything, it’s just that I never had the heart or the mind for law. I was always a free spirited person, I liked dancing, art and everything which was pointless and had zero scopes for a career.

My dad, on the other hand, owned the largest law firm in the entire state. People came to us from other states to beg my dad to take up their cases. His life was like an episode of “Suits”! He was the primary and, honestly, the sole reason why I had to enroll into law school. It was mostly forceful, but I for once wanted to make him feel proud of me as Kenny had already let him down. Kenny, my older brother, wreaked havoc within our family when he brought home a spiral binding copy of his first approved play script. Dad was so upset; I thought he would smack him with the script. But my dad is a calm and composed man; I guess years of waiting for court dates build patience in one. He kindly asked Kenny to choose what made him happy: the choice was obviously between his family and all the luxuries that he was blessed with or the broke and insecure life of a play writer. Kenny was courageous enough to choose the life of a bankrupt heir to the Benedict family. But I wanted to do something which made him happy because that’s what daughters do.

I believed taking up law would help me repay the years of hard work dad had done for me and our family. All credit goes to him for the life of royalty we had spent, even during years of recession. Too much my dismay, I was completely wrong and a fool to do this and I realized it as we approached closer to my campus. The car pulled to a halt. My driver, suited up in a uniform, got out of the car, pulled out my luggage from the trunk and escorted me out of the car.

“Here you go Miss Benedict, your luggage, and your laptop. Do you wish for me to carry it to your dorm?” He said in a polite tone.

I gave him a smile “No thanks Doug, I can do this”

I was fibbing of course. I was freaking out on the inside. I gently pulled my bags from his hand and started walking towards my dorm. I had never spent even a day away from home and this was like 3 years of solitary confinement. Dad had asked me to do internships during the holidays and not waste my time at home. That was kind of a smart way to tell your child to stay from them, but I couldn’t complain. I entered the red brick building and looked hastily for the reception or someone to usher me to my room if they had that sort of service around here. And soon I realized that I was not supposed to be here. This was the…

“Lady, what are you doing in the men’s dormitory?” A shrill voice called me from behind.

“Err. I think I am lost sir” I turned around to find a pair of eyes piercing through the glass of the spectacles, staring at me.

“I meant to go to the girl’s dorm. I guess I have got the buildings mixed up!”

“Are you a freshman?”

“Yes, sir. Could you be kind enough to tell me where the building I’m looking for is?”

“Oh no no,” He said, nodding his head. “It’s very far from here dear. You’ll have to walk for almost 10 minutes and with that amount of luggage, it’ll take you an hour at minimum”

I could sense the sarcasm in his tone. He signed to someone behind me and I felt a rush of air brush my left arm.

“Smith, walk her to the girl’s dormitory and help her with her luggage. I expect you to be back in 20 minutes!” and he vanished into the swarm of men as soon as he was done talking.

“Hey, I am Connor Smith, sophomore year,” said the man next to me.

I turned to him, only to find a tall, dark, handsome man staring back at me. He was an African American, with a face of an angel. If he was up on a poster, or on the billboards, I was sure to check him out.

“Ma’am?”

“Oh yes! I’m Mia Benedict. Freshman. Could you please help me with this? “I said, struggling with my clan of branded bags.

“Smith, reporting for duty Ma’am,” he said in a funny tone while grabbing my bags.