Page 30 of The Edge Of Us

“That’s not true,” my mother cries, dropping to her knees beside my bed. She grabs my hand—cold, limp, unresponsive—and squeezes. “You’re still here, Corinne. Somewhere inside this… darkness, you’re still you. Let us help you find your way back.”

“I don’t know how to be a mother anymore,” I whisper. “I don’t even know how to be me.”

My father’s voice softens. “Then let us carry you until you do.”

And then… a knock.

Sharp. Loud. Out of place.

We all freeze.

The door creaks open slowly—and there he is.

Allen.

Tall. Gaunt. Haunted.

His eyes lock with mine, and my stomach twists with so many emotions I can’t name them all. Rage. Grief. Betrayal. Love—no, not love. Not anymore.

My father steps forward instantly, standing like a shield in front of me.

“You don’t belong here,” he says coldly.

Allen doesn’t flinch. “I just came to check on her. And the kids.”

“You gave up that right when you walked out,” my father growls. “You don’t get to play the concerned husband now.”

“I am concerned,” Allen says, his voice tight. “I know I hurt her. I know I destroyed everything. But I still care. I still want—”

“Want what?” My voice, brittle and burning, cuts through the room. “To see the damage you caused? To see me on my knees so you can feel better about the fact that you shattered our lives?”

Allen swallows hard. “Corinne—”

“Don’t say my name.” My body shakes with fury as I force myself to my feet, stumbling slightly. “Don’t you dare say my name like it still belongs to you.”

He takes a step forward. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen—”

“You didn’t mean?” I laugh—a sound hollow and sharp. “You mean you just accidentally slipped into bed with my best friend? You just tripped into betrayal?”

His jaw clenches, his guilt plain on his face.

“I loved you,” I whisper, tears spilling. “I trusted you with my body, my soul, my children… And you spit on all of it.”

Allen looks down. “I made a mistake.”

“No,” I snarl. “You made a choice.”

The room is silent, thick with the weight of broken vows and shattered illusions.

Allen looks up again, voice hoarse. “Can I at least see Kyle and Astrid?”

My mother steps forward, arms crossed like a fortress. “Not today.”

“I’m still their father—”

“And I’m still their mother!” I shout, my whole body trembling now. “And I won’t let you waltz in here and pretend you didn’t burn our house down.”

Allen nods slowly. “I’ll go.”

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