Fate Rolls Dark by Mark Twain 8
8 Chapter 8
The pain on his face shifted into something else -shock-as he saw the pure, unadulterated loathing in my eyes.
“Listen carefully,” I said, my voice low and steady. “We are finished. I will never look for that ring. I will never try to be like Chloe. I will get married one day. But it will never, *ever* be to you.”
I released him. He stumbled back, crouching by the railing.
He called my name, not with anger now, but with a raw, panicked edge I’d never heard before. “Lauren, wait! Please!”
I kept walking.
“Okay! Okay, I was wrong! I messed up! We have history, five years! Doesn’t that mean anything? Give me one chance to fix it!”
I didn’t stop. He scrambled to his feet and ran after me, his breath coming in ragged gasps. The
chaser had become the chased.
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8 Chapter 8
He darted in front of me, blocking my path. He
was pale, sweating. “We talked about a house. With a porch swing. Kids. Growing old together. Did you just… throw all that away?”
His eyes were glistening. “I know I focused too much on Chloe. But she’s like a sister. It’s you I want. It’s always been you. We’re supposed to get married. You promised…”
I laughed, the sound harsh in the quiet night. “Promises are just words, Ethan. I can make them to anyone.”
He looked like I’d slapped him.
Then, from down the pier, a scream. “Ethan! Help!”
A loud splash.
We both turned. Chloe was in the water, flailing dramatically in the two-foot-deep marina.
Ethan looked from her to me, agony on his face. His lips trembled. “I… I have to. It’s the last time,
8 Chapter 8
Lauren. I swear. I can’t just let her drown.”
And he ran. He actually tripped in his haste, then plunged into the shallow water to “rescue” her.
*Like a sister*. Right.
A cab was finally approaching. I flagged it down.
Just as I got in, a sopping wet Ethan, carrying a equally wet and clinging Chloe, appeared at the window. “Lauren, get out. Call another one. Chloe’s in shock. She needs a hospital *now*”
I looked at them. The “life-threatening water
hadn’t even reached his knees.
I gave him a slow, cold smile. Then I kicked out, my foot connecting squarely with his chest.
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