[{"data":1,"prerenderedAt":10},["ShallowReactive",2],{"viewer-data-260313F01E2B-61":3},{"id":4,"number":5,"name":6,"content":7,"isLocked":8,"price":9,"hasRead":8},61,2,"Chapter 2: A Pair of Red High Heels","\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Last Friday was the day I was supposed to pick up my daughter from school.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">I showed up an hour early, then waited until it was pitch black outside.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Only then did Valentina call. Sebastian's mom had apparently instructed her to take the kid to the family estate for dinner.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">I could hear Sebastian in the background, asking Valentina if she wanted soup.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">I threw a fit about it, and Sebastian still had the audacity to accuse me of making a mountain out of a molehill.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Shaking my head, I tried to shake off the nasty memories. I managed a smile:\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Whatever. Looks like the future Mrs. Walker is already taking over household duties, even before the wedding. Picking up my daughter is small potatoes in comparison.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Sebastian seemed to flinch. After a beat of silence, he exploded:\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Natalie! How long are you going to keep this up?!\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">I curled up, getting more comfortable on the bed:\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"Oh, and don't worry about pregnant women not being able to get a divorce.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">\"I had a miscarriage.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">The day I lost the baby, I took a cab home alone. I called Sebastian like a dozen times on the way.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Zero answers.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">I actually thought something might have happened to him and reached out to his mom.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">His mom informed me that Valentina's dog was getting fixed that day, and Sebastian had gone with her.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Now, I'm not saying a dog's spay surgery is more important than my miscarriage.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">But Valentina? She was definitely more important than me.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Before I could even confront Sebastian,\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">I got a pair of red high heels delivered from Valentina.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She looked down her nose at me: \"Mr. Walker is swamped. He personally picked out this anniversary gift for you and asked me to drop it off.\"\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">I just stared at those red high heels, totally blank for a long, long time.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">At that point, who had arranged it didn't even matter anymore.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">It was all the same to me.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">This was our promise, Sebastian's and mine.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">We had sworn to each other that red high heels would never, ever be a part of our lives again.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Our meeting wasn't some fairy tale meet-cute. He was this rebellious rich kid, and some school bully was shaking him down for cash.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">I stepped in during the scuffle and helped him out.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Later, on my way home, the bully and his crew cornered me. Sebastian came out of nowhere and bashed the bully's head.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">In the brutal fight that followed, Sebastian's eye got seriously messed up, and I took such a beating I ended up a bloody mess, unconscious.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Holding my limp body, Sebastian, with only one good eye, carried me halfway across the city.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">His eye was already on its last legs, and this injury turned it into a chronic condition that could never be fully healed.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Only physical therapy and massage could offer him some relief.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">From that moment on, we developed our own unspoken connection.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">I helped him with his studies; he walked me home.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">I wanted to help him with his therapy; he found ways to surprise me.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">We were rushing towards a future together, becoming each other's guiding light.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">I foolishly believed my messed-up life was finally about to turn around.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Until my mom's birthday, the year I turned eighteen. I bought her a pair of red high heels.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">My deadbeat, gambling-addicted father saw the shoes and thought my mom had stashed some cash. He went ballistic, beating both of us.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">I was beaten within an inch of my life. My mother knelt down and handed him all the tuition money she'd saved for me.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Still not satisfied, he screamed that my education was worthless. He'd already lined up some \"boss\" and said I was to spend three days with him to rake in a huge sum of cash.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">Hearing this, my mother's eyes welled up with tears. This woman, timid and meek her entire life, grabbed a fruit knife from the table in a fit of rage and stabbed that gambling addict to death.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">She told me not to be scared and calmly instructed me to go outside and call the cops.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">When I got back, she was wearing the red high heels I'd bought her, having hanged herself in the room.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">From that day on, I hated the color red, I hated high heels, and I especially hated red high heels.\u003C/p>\u003Cp class=\"chapter-paragraph\">I told Sebastian, \"If you ever want me to leave, just give me a pair of red high heels.\"\u003C/p>",false,0,1774272924687]