Love Soaked in Blood

Chapter 1

Five years with Jake Reynolds, and then BAM, I get diagnosed with ALS.

I didn’t want him to freak out, so I kept it to myself.

But then I accidentally overheard him talking to one of his buddies.

“So, is your girl still chasing miracle cures? I heard you were sniffing around some doctors overseas.”

“You think I’d let her give up? I want her to feel like she has a chance.”

I didn’t expect him to say that.

“No, no, that’s not what I’m asking. All that stuff about pushing her into the lake, making sure her legs were soaking in ice for hours… If some doc actually fixes her, wouldn’t that screw up your plan?”

“It was all for show, man.”

“Besides, it’s been five years. Even if she got better, it wouldn’t matter anymore.”

The casual cruelty in Jake’s voice, it felt like a needle jabbed straight into my heart.

The “deep love” I thought we had? Just a big, fat lie.

1.

I’m sitting in my wheelchair, skin feeling clammy. I look down at my useless legs.

My eyelashes flutter, trying to process what I just heard.

From behind the closed door of his office.

Someone lets out a wolf whistle, saying, “Damn, Reynolds, you are one cold dude! No wonder you get things done!”

“But seriously, Jake, you not even a little bit sorry about this?”

The room goes quiet after that.

For a second, I think my heart actually stops.

Then Jake speaks again.

“Sorry?”

He practically snorts. “Yeah, maybe I felt a twinge of guilt at first. But five years is a long time, you know?”

He says it so casually, like it doesn’t weigh a damn thing on him.

But… why would he do this to me?

My brain can’t wrap around it, but the answer comes soon enough, courtesy of their oh-so-helpful conversation.

“As long as she’s around, Brittany’s gonna be playing second fiddle. She can’t dance, Brittany wins the gold.”

“Brittany’s star’s been rising like crazy these past five years. Guess that proves I made the right call.”

I’m frozen solid. My legs, already numb, suddenly start to ache.

I remember those first three months after finding out I’d never dance again.

I didn’t want to see anyone, hear anything about competitions.

Jake was so “guilty,” saying he didn’t protect me.

He tiptoed around my shattered little heart, telling the housekeeper that nobody could mention dancing in front of me.

Then, one night, a bright light jolts me awake.

I open my eyes to see Jake watching dance videos.

All the pain crashes down on me, drowning me.

I can’t breathe, can’t speak.

He doesn’t notice I’m awake until the video ends.

Then, he looks like a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar. He scrambles to close the window, hide his phone.

“Amy, I’m so sorry! I just miss seeing you dance.”

“I mean, if your legs were okay, you’d be doing this right now, right?”

His voice is laced with self-reproach, regret, and a whole lot of promises.

“Amy, don’t worry, I’m going to find the best doctors. We’re gonna fix your legs, I promise.”

“I’m not giving up. Don’t you give up either, okay?”

His voice is so gentle, so full of concern. It hits me right in the gut.

And I burst into tears.

I was so consumed by my own pain back then.

I was so busy wallowing that I didn’t see the look on his face.

It’s clear now. He was already showing his hand.

I was just too dumb to see it, too eager to believe his sweet lies.

So yeah, for the past few years, I haven’t given up.

If I hadn’t gone back to the doctor and gotten the ALS diagnosis, the truth might have stayed hidden.

2.

Hearing that news, it felt like the world was collapsing around me for a second time.

Maybe it’s because I’ve been stuck in this chair for so long, but I took the news pretty calmly.

I accepted the fact, didn’t even tell Jake, and asked the doctor to keep it quiet.

He already beats himself up enough about my legs.

If he knew there was no hope for me, he’d be even worse.

So, I figured I’d spend as much time with him as possible, maybe come to the office for a bit.

I should have known it was a bad idea.

I let out a bitter little laugh, realizing what else he said:

“Five years, and now she’s diagnosed with ALS, so even if her legs got better, there’s no way she could threaten Brittany’s spotlight again. Plus, she’s got the most painful disease in the world so there is no chance she’s getting better now.”

I flinch at his words.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

Someone asks, all confused.

My mind already knows the answer.

Until Jake says it out loud: “She has ALS. Amy has ALS.”

“And she asked the doctor to keep it from me, can you believe it? Haha.”

I close my eyes, letting it sink in.

That’s right…

I hear the guys laughing and a coppery taste coats my tongue.

I can’t breathe.

I spin my wheelchair around, trying to get the hell out of there.

But of course, fate’s got other plans.

“Miss Amy, why aren’t you coming in? Are you having trouble?”

The room falls silent.

I hear footsteps, and then the door swings open.

Jake’s standing there, looking at me.

He gently strokes my hair, his voice all soft. “Why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I would have come down to get you.”

He’s testing the waters, but I can’t pretend anymore.

He waits for me to say something.

Then he adds, “There’s a doctor here today who specializes in tough cases. He’s visiting from overseas. I was going to introduce you.”

I look away. “No thanks.”

Jake’s trying to keep up the charade, but I’m done.

His smile fades.

His friends jump in, playing their parts:

“Come on, Amy, you should go! Jake’s put a lot of effort into this!”

“Yeah, he’ll be crushed if you don’t.”

Maybe I’m extra sensitive now that I know the truth.

Or maybe they’re not as good at acting as they think.

Either way, I get a weird vibe from them.

Jake uses my silence as agreement.

Just like always, the doctor gives me the same song and dance.

Then Jake does his “I’m so disappointed” routine, ending with a sigh.

And the oh-so-gentle words of comfort:

“It’s okay, Amy, I’ll find other doctors.”

“Medical science is amazing now. It’s just a matter of time.”

“Amy, I’m here for you. We’ll get through this.”

He’s said it all before, and I used to feel something when he said it.

But today, hearing those lines after what I overheard?

One word: phony.

Just before we leave, the doctor asks Jake something in French:

“Mr. Reynolds, didn’t you say the patient had a back problem? Why are we looking at her legs?”

3.

Jake majored in law and studied in France for a year.

Me? I just picked up French because I was bored at home.

He always told me to get out more, stop reading so much.

So, he doesn’t know I understand what they said.

And that I finally understand why his friends were acting so strangely.

Simple: the doctor was supposed to see Brittany.

Why he let me see the doctor instead?

Probably felt guilty for what he said and wanted to put on a show, right?

Sure enough, once we’re outside, Jake crouches down in front of me, trying to be “equal.”

“I have some work to do. You think it’s alright if the driver takes you home?”

I used to fall for these little gestures.

Now, I can’t wrap my head around it.

Can someone really fake love this well?

In the car, I ask the driver to pull over a block away from home.

Soon, I see a car stop outside the office building.

And Jake walks over to open the door.

A woman steps out, all elegant and poised.

Brittany.

It’s the first time I’ve seen Jake like this.

His eyes are locked on her, so careful, so…eager.

There’s a difference between real love and fake love.

I roll up the window. “Let’s go.”

Back at the house, I sit alone for hours, thinking.

Jake finally gets home, acting like nothing’s wrong.

He sees me by the window and asks, “What are you doing here?”

I stare out the window. “Jake, do you love me?”

He doesn’t answer. He laughs softly.

“You’re overthinking things, aren’t you?”

I never asked this before. But Jake doesn’t seem to notice anything is off.

He leans down, kisses me on the forehead.

Then his lips move lower. But when he tries to kiss me, I turn my head.

He pauses, then straightens up.

“Amy, if you really don’t want to see more doctors, it’s okay.”

He thinks I’m upset about the doctor’s visit.

“I’m still here for you.”

“There’s more to life than dancing.”

“Wherever you want to go, I’ll take you. Just try to enjoy the ride, ok?”

I finally look at him.

But the spark that used to ignite whenever I looked at him is gone.

I don’t comfort him like I used to.

Instead, I say it, clear and firm: “But I only want to dance.”

Jake didn’t expect that.

He stares for a second, then snaps out of it.

He starts repeating all the same lines he’s said a thousand times before.

The mood that night is awful. We lay in the same bed, wide awake, not saying a word.

The next morning, Jake acts like nothing happened.

“I have to go out of town for a business trip. I’ll get you something while I’m gone.”

I nod, not saying anything.

Not calling his bluff.

I actually looked up Brittany online last night.

And I know that she’s competing in a dance competition tonight.

Jake doesn’t know that I know he’s lying.

And he doesn’t know that after he leaves.

I’m going to meet with someone.

He also doesn’t know I received a message from a teacher, who told me that a doctor overseas is doing ALS research with experimental trials, and she asked if I want to go.

4.

My old teacher hasn’t given up on me.

She’s just tried not to talk about it since Jake hired all those big-shot doctors with no results.

But we were close, like family.

So she still runs things by me, even though she wishes she could say “If your legs were okay…”

I know she’s still fighting for me.

So, when I got the ALS diagnosis, I knew I had to tell her.

She burst into tears on the phone.

I thought she was just giving up, like me.

But she brought me good news.

I didn’t cry when I heard those awful things in Jake’s office.

I didn’t cry when I learned he’d been lying this whole time.

But now? I can’t hold it back.

It’s impossible to say I’m not bitter about Jake’s lies.

I feel hopeless.

But my teacher’s news brings my heart back to life.

It might be a long shot, it might be painful, but

As long as there’s hope, I won’t give up.

The news makes me weirdly happy.

I pull out my old dance videos and start watching them.

I watch myself moving gracefully, imagine myself dancing again.

I smile without realizing it.

But then the door bursts open.

Jake walks in, looking panicked. “Amy!”

I turn around, my smile fading.

Then I see Brittany walking in behind him.

My eyes flick to her.

Then Jake grabs my hands.

“Amy, where are your dance videos?”

I suck in a breath, instinctively turning off my phone.

Before I can say anything.

“You always said you wanted to choreograph a dance, but you never had a chance.”

“Could Brittany perform your dance? Could you lend it to her, Amy?”

5.

My hands grip the phone tightly, and I stare right at him.

He looks away, guilty.

He explains “Someone stole Brittany’s dance, and we don’t have time to choreograph another, so can you lend her your dance, so she can do it well?”

I can’t believe what I’m hearing.

Helping her with my legs wasn’t enough? You need to use my talent too.