Too Late For Regret: My Dead Heart

Rain lashed against the twisted metal of the Mercedes.

Hallie could not breathe.

The steering wheel pinned her chest to the driver's seat. Every shallow gasp sent a sharp, stabbing pain through her ribs.

A paramedic shoved his upper body through the shattered window. His heavy jacket smelled of wet asphalt and copper.

He pressed two gloved fingers hard into the side of her neck.

"Pulse is thready and irregular!" he yelled over the storm.

Blood ran down Hallie's forehead. It mixed with the cold rain and stung her eyes. Her vision blurred at the edges. She felt the heat leaving her fingertips.

Another paramedic crouched on the wet road. He dug through her ruined Birkin bag. He pulled out her cracked smartphone.

The screen flickered. The paramedic, wearing clean gloves from his kit, carefully held the device. He managed to activate the screen, his gaze falling on the emergency contact pinned at the top.

Aidan.

The phone began to ring. The sound was faint over the heavy rain. Hallie felt a weak flutter in her crushed chest. She just needed him to answer.

Three thousand miles away, inside the Waldorf Astoria in Manhattan, classical music played.

Aidan stood near a quiet balcony. He felt the heavy vibration of his custom phone in his suit pocket.

He pulled it out. He looked at the screen. The name Hallie flashed brightly.

His jaw tightened. A hard knot of annoyance formed in his stomach. He stepped out onto the cold balcony and pressed the answer button.

"What game are you playing now?" Aidan asked. His voice was completely flat.

The paramedic pressed the phone to his ear and shouted.

"Is this Mr. Aidan Monroe? Your wife has been in a severe car crash. She is fading fast!"

Silence stretched over the line for one full second.

Hallie's heart gave a painful, hopeful squeeze. He was going to come. He had to come.

Then, a low, harsh laugh came through the speaker. The sound pierced right through the rain and into Hallie's ears.

"Tell her this is a pathetic way to stop the divorce," Aidan said. "I do not have time for her crazy games."

The line went dead. The paramedic's jaw tightened for a second before he tossed the phone onto the passenger seat, his entire focus snapping back to the woman pinned in the wreckage. "Forget him! We're losing her!" he yelled to his partner.

That cold laugh was the last thing Hallie felt. A heavy, freezing weight dropped into her stomach. The tear at the corner of her eye mixed with the blood and rolled into her hair.

The heart monitor attached to her arm let out a loud, continuous piercing sound. The jagged green lines on the screen snapped into a single, flat line.

The paramedic climbed onto the stretcher. He placed his hands over Hallie's chest and pushed down hard.

The loud crack of her ribs breaking echoed in the rain.

But Hallie did not feel the pain.

A strange sensation of weightlessness took over. The heavy pressure on her chest vanished.

She felt herself rising. Her perspective shifted upward. She floated in the cold air, looking down at the twisted car.

She watched the paramedic sweating and pushing on her chest. She looked at her own face. It was pale and completely still.

One of the paramedics stopped. He looked at his watch. He shook his head and stepped back.

Hallie reached out her hand. She tried to grab the man's shoulder. Her fingers passed right through his thick jacket.

She stared at her transparent hands. She was dead. She was stuck in this cold air, entirely separated from her body.

A black body bag was unrolled on the wet road. The men lifted her heavy body and placed it inside. The sound of the zipper closing was deafening.

They loaded the bag into the back of the ambulance. The doors slammed shut. The red and blue lights flashed as the truck drove away into the dark.

Hallie floated alone above the empty cliff. A massive wave of panic hit her.

Then, a strong pull yanked at her chest. It was not a physical hand, but a violent magnetic force.

It wrapped around her invisible throat. It pulled her forward. She had no control. She was dragged through the storm, moving faster than the wind, pulled by the deep obsession buried in her mind.

Hallie flew through the dark sky. The wind rushed past her ears.

Suddenly, the tight pull shifted. It was as if another, older wound cried out, overriding the first-the primal ache of the first betrayal she had ever known. A different, weaker force yanked her sharply to the left.

She crashed down through a concrete ceiling. She landed on a sticky, dirty floor.

The smell of cheap tobacco and stale beer filled her nose. Loud electronic bells rang from rows of slot machines.

Hallie stood up. She looked at the poker table in the corner.

Dafne Hill sat on a cheap plastic stool. Her eyes were red. She held a lit cigarette between her yellowed fingers.

This was the woman who raised her. Her mother.

Dafne pushed her last three plastic chips into the center of the table. She yelled at the dealer to deal the cards. The dealer flipped the cards and scooped her chips away.

Dafne slammed her hands on the table. She opened her mouth to scream.

Her cheap cell phone rang in her jacket pocket.

She pulled it out and glared at the screen. She pressed the green button.

"Who is it? I am busy losing money!" Dafne yelled.

A calm voice came through the speaker. "Is this Ms. Dafne Hill? I am calling from the emergency department at Seattle Central Hospital."

Dafne froze. She took a drag of her cigarette.

"We are calling to inform you that Hallie Monroe died in a car accident tonight," the nurse said. "We need you to come claim the body."

Hallie floated right next to Dafne's shoulder. A tiny, pathetic piece of hope fluttered in her chest. She waited for her mother to cry. She waited for a single tear.

Dafne's eyes widened. She sat up straight.

"Dead?" Dafne asked quickly. "Did she leave a life insurance policy? Am I the beneficiary?"

The nurse paused. "We do not have any insurance information on file, ma'am. We just need a family member to sign the release forms."

The excitement dropped from Dafne's face. Her mouth twisted into an ugly sneer. She spit on the dirty floor.

"If there is no money, why would I go look at a corpse?" Dafne shouted into the phone. "That little bitch was cheap when she was alive. Now she wants to waste my plane ticket money?"

"Ma'am, we need someone to-"

"I do not care what you do with her!" Dafne interrupted. "Throw her in the incinerator. Bury her in a ditch. Do not call me again!"

Dafne hit the end button. She threw the phone onto the poker table. She muttered curses about Hallie ruining her luck.

Hallie stood completely still. The words hit her like physical blows to the stomach.

Cold memories rushed into her head. She remembered being sixteen. She remembered working long shifts at the diner to save for college.

She remembered Dafne ripping her backpack open, taking the crumpled bills, and pushing her into the mud outside their trailer.

She remembered Dafne showing up at the Monroe Group lobby last year, screaming for alimony until Hallie handed over her credit card.

Hallie looked at the woman laughing with the man next to her, begging for a twenty-dollar loan.

A dry, silent laugh tore from Hallie's throat.

She was garbage to them. She had never been loved. Not by her husband. Not by her mother.

A hot, violent anger boiled in her chest. The energy spiked.

The fluorescent light bulb above the poker table flickered wildly. It buzzed loud and popped.

Dafne jumped in her seat. She cursed the casino's cheap electricity. She did not look around.

The thin, invisible string connecting Hallie to Dafne snapped. The bond was gone.

The stronger, violent force grabbed Hallie again. It wrapped around her waist.

The dirty basement vanished. The bright lights of the Manhattan skyline rushed toward her face.

She fell fast from the clouds. She dropped straight toward the massive penthouse in Tribeca. The home she shared with Aidan.

Hallie landed hard on the edge of the wide balcony. The cold night wind whipped around her.

She reached out to push the heavy sliding glass door. Her hand went straight through the thick glass. She stumbled forward into the dark living room.

The main lights were off. A few warm wall lamps glowed.

A heavy, expensive perfume hung in the air. It was sweet and sickening. It was not her scent.

Hallie heard a soft crying sound coming from the master bedroom. Her invisible heart hammered against her ribs.

She walked down the hall. She stepped right through the solid mahogany door.

The sight inside made her stomach drop.

Aidan's custom suit jacket was thrown on the floor. He sat on the edge of their large bed.

He held a small, shaking woman tightly against his chest.

It was Cecile. Her sister.

Cecile was wearing Hallie's favorite burgundy silk pajamas. The fabric slipped off her pale shoulder.

Cecile buried her face in Aidan's shirt. She sobbed loudly. Her hands gripped his waist.

Aidan rubbed his large hand up and down Cecile's back. His touch was slow and gentle. Hallie had never felt that touch.

"Do not be afraid," Aidan said. His voice was low and soft. "I promise that crazy woman will never bother you again."

Cecile lifted her head. Her eyes were red and wet. She bit her lower lip.

"She loves you so much," Cecile whispered. "That is why she faked that car crash. She just wanted to scare us."

Hallie's hands curled into fists. Her nails dug into her palms, but she felt nothing. Cecile was lying.

Aidan let out a harsh breath. "She does not know what love is. She only loves the Monroe title and the blank checks."

He reached up and wiped a tear from Cecile's cheek. "I am sick of her hysteria. I will have the lawyers enforce the divorce tomorrow."

Cecile rested her cheek against his palm. She looked like a frightened child.

But as Aidan looked away, the corner of Cecile's mouth twitched. A small, sharp smirk appeared on her lips.

It was a look of pure victory.

The truth hit Hallie like a physical punch to the throat. Cecile was not a victim. Cecile was the predator.

Hallie screamed. She lunged forward. She grabbed the collar of the burgundy pajamas and pulled.

Her hands passed through the silk. She grabbed at Cecile's hair. Her fingers caught nothing but empty air.

Cecile suddenly shivered. She pressed closer to Aidan.

"Aidan, it feels cold in here," Cecile whispered.

Aidan wrapped his arms completely around her. He glared at the empty space near the window.

"It is just the bad energy she left behind in this place," Aidan said coldly.

Hallie stopped moving. Her arms dropped to her sides. She stared at the man she had loved for three years.

She remembered burning her hand making him soup, and him walking right past her. Now, Cecile shed fake tears, and he treated her like glass.

Aidan rubbed his temples. He looked down at Cecile.

"Go change your clothes," Aidan said. "We are not staying in this disgusting place tonight."

Cecile nodded quickly. She leaned up and kissed his jaw.

Hallie watched the kiss. The last warm feeling she had for Aidan turned to ash.