Scars In Sunlight

Synopsis

If I'd known that one photo on my phone would split my life in two, I never would've gone looking for him. Not two months pregnant. Not after selling my house and my shares. Not after dragging myself through the snow for seven straight days. Later, I was lying on the operating table. The doctor told me to keep the baby. I told him I didn't need to. He knelt in the middle of a frozen lake and asked if I could forgive him. However, I found out he hadn't been confused about what he did. He knew exactly what he was doing. He chose it. Now I sat in a small guesthouse at the foot of a snow-covered mountain. The frostbite scars on my hand ran like a thin streak of light. Someone asked me if I hated him. I said it didn't matter anymore. Really? Then why, when he dropped to his knees in front of me, saying he had already signed the divorce papers but still wanted to see me one last time, did I hand him a cup of coffee instead of a knife? At the very end, sunlight fell across the scar. It didn't hurt anymore. But I knew I had once hated him.