AMELIA

Breathe, Amelia.

I reminded myself, my feet rooted to the spot as my sister's familiar eyes met mine.

The deadly glare, the venom with no hint of shame or guilt that I had just found her kissing the man who called himself my husband.

Though it seemed to me like I had only just seen her two days ago, when she reminded me I was the daughter of a dead whore, looking at her now invited a strange feeling.

Like I had not seen her in a long time.

Still, that anger and hatred at the immediate sight of her grew even more now that I saw her in Roman's arms. My head began to throb incessantly.

“Um…” I was unsure of what to say, unsure of what I had just walked into.

Roman visibly tensed up at the sight of me, taking an immediate step back and holding Bertha at arm's length.

He cleared his throat, his expression cloudy as he looked at me.

“Is this…” My throat felt dry, “Why you were so eager to divorce me? Because you’re…with my sister?” I hated how my voice shook when I asked the question.

I do not know this man, why does it hurt to see him with her?

Why does it have to be her?

“Amelia!” Bertha gasped, hands reaching up to cover her lips as her eyes began to glimmer with tears.

Great.

“Yes,” Roman replied, jaw tight as he held Bertha's hand in front of me.

The corners of my lips twitched.

They didn’t feel any remorse, shame, or guilt.

“If that’s the case,” I let out a low, humorless chuckle, “I will gladly give you your freedom, Roman,”

“What?” Roman blinked, and a look of surprise passed his features.

“I said I will divorce you,” I smiled but it didn’t reach my eyes, “I’d much rather deal with only my amnesia and not the torture of staying married to a man fucking my dear sister,” I said, tone dripping with sarcasm.

Bertha gasped and Roman's expression darkened even further.

Why? I thought the knowledge that I would give him the divorce he so desperately craves would make him elated.

“You really did lose your memories,” Bertha said in awe, “You were right,” she turned to Roman, “She is a completely different person!” Bertha cried.

Big, fat droplets of tears streamed down her face as she looked at me with pity. Roman held her in his arms again, consoling her.

“Oh…my poor sister,” she sobbed, burrowing her face into his chest.

There was a crack in his cold mask, one of concern as he patted her back and reassured her.

Barf.

“Uh…right,” I tried to look anywhere else but unfortunately, I couldn’t pry my eyes away.

“Don’t cry, the doctor said she will be fine, she doesn’t deserve your tears either,” Roman added the last sentence in a much darker tone, wiping her tears like a filial boyfriend.

In front of me.

“Don’t say that,” Bertha sniffled, “I love my sister, no matter what she has done, even though she’s the reason we’ve been apart for so long,”

“Aw,” I snorted, “I love you too sis,” I said, unable to hide the irritation in my tone.

Did they forget I was standing right there?

They both spared me a glance before Bertha turned back to Roman. “I would like to catch up with her, we have a lot to talk about,” she said solemnly, wiping the rest of her tears.

A feeling of dread stirred. I didn’t want to be alone with her!

Roman nodded with an understanding, soft gaze. He kissed her again and walked away, stopping when he was just a step away from me.

“I’ll be leaving first,” He said, “Find your way back,” He muttered coldly, “And do not say anything to upset her,”

I bit back on the remark that lodged in my throat.

This felt so familiar. Like my childhood.

Why do I always have to be the one watching what I say to Bertha? Why am I always the person at the receiving end of such words?

Squaring my shoulders, I forced an unbothered smile and shrugged. It seemed to irritate him as he then took large strides away, leaving me alone with Bertha.

As much as I hate to admit it, she has become more beautiful.

And I…well, I was still me, even worse.

They say I’m different, it makes me wonder what the twenty-five-year-old Amelia was like.

“So…” Bertha sneered, every hint of sadness cleared from her expression.

“So,” I retorted with a narrowed gaze, eager yet dreading what she had to say.

“I hear you lost all memories of the past five years, which means you’re still that twenty-year-old who thought she could be something other than dirt under my shoes,”

The corners of my lips twitched. She speaks like I became docile. Maybe I did, but I am not that person.

“And I see after five years you’re still jealous of everything I have and want it for yourself, my first boyfriend, my position at the university, and now, my husband,” I turned, taking slow and calculated steps towards her. My head throbbed so badly that I felt dizzy, so I leaned on the railing but didn’t let my weakness show.

“After all these years, it’s nice to see you still carry my shadow everywhere you go,”

“You fucking bitch!” Bertha snarled, “I didn’t miss that mouth of yours, and mind you, Roman has always been mine!” She said, her eyes wide with anger and hatred.

“He fell in love with me! And was supposed to marry me! Until your dead whore of a mother decided to haunt me even from her grave!” she spat, her face red and her clenched fists shaking by her side.

Why was she so riled up?

This was literally a normal exchange between my sister and me.

My mother haunted her?

“Don’t call my mother names,” I said through gritted teeth, trying hard to rein in my anger.

“I don’t care what the process was of how I ended up married to a man you like…but I want no part in it!”

Bertha scoffed, “You begged like a servant, pleading for me to let him marry you…despite that you still couldn’t keep him!”

Begging? Bertha?

“Ha!” I shook my head, “That doesn’t sound like something I would ever do in this lifetime,”

God, my head hurt so fucking much! Talking to her made me feel worse, the immense hatred I felt towards her made me feel worse.

“That’s what you think, Amelia, but you crawled and begged like the shore your mother was!”

I wanted to hit her, but my body had lost all strength and my legs trembled.

“And now, Roman will be mine, he will never love or want you! You will forever be beneath me!” She said, looking down at me with a condescending gaze.

The bitch!

“You're so insecure about everything,” I drawled, “Maybe that’s why you’re still a fucking bitch, grow up, Bertha!” I scoffed.

That seemed to rile her up even more. She was in front of me in the next second, grabbing my shoulders in a vice grip. I felt her nails dig in, breaking the skin.

“You’re so pathetic that even the man you’ve loved for five years will always choose me over you…” She muttered in a low voice, “You have nothing for me to be jealous of, you’re the most useless, most unlucky person I have ever met…of not why else would you see my luck as jealousy?” She sneered, and a snide smile stretched her lips as her grip tightened.

“You don’t even deserve to live, you’re a waste of space!”

Then I lost all strength in my legs and I felt my body falling backward…no, she pushed me, I was too weak to fight back or hold on.

I fell over the railing. A scream lodged in my throat as I heard the whistling of the air surrounding me, I gasped in shock and terror.

This was it for me.

To die at the hands of the bitch who made my life a living hell.

To die like a dog.

It felt like a lifetime looking up at the railing and the satisfied face of Bertha, but it was only a few seconds, and soon, I felt the bone-crushing impact.

It all went dark.