Elegy of Ice and Snow
I picked up a dumbass.
He had amnesia, but damn, he was gorgeous.
I lied and told him he was my fiancé. The idiot
believed me.
Then his memory came back, and turns out
he was some big–shot rich kid.
He went back to his life, without a single look
back.
Two years later, I saw him again.
I watched as the same guy, now used the toe of his expensive shoe to grind another man’s
fingers into the floor, his voice like ice:
“Worthless.”
I turned to run, and he called out:
“My fiancé, did you lose your memory too?”
1
Seeing Hunter back in my life was surreal.
He donated a library to the school, and they
invited him for some kind of meet–and–greet.
“Mr. Huntington, you’re so young and
く
successful, what inspired you to invest in
education?”
His voice was flat: “I want to make sure that
people who want to read, can read. That’s
all.”
“Does this desire come from personal
experience?”
Hunter Huntington paused.
Three years ago, he’d lost his memory and been dumped in the middle of nowhere,
spending the worst year of his life–nobody
knew about that.
–
L
I sat in the audience, watching him from afar.
Now, Hunter was decked out in an expensive
suit, his expression indifferent.
And me? I was just a broke college student
who’d just applied for financial aid.
We were maybe three hundred feet apart.
But it felt like an uncrossable canyon.
My roommate was practically drooling, “He’s
so hot, he’s totally my man.
Another one elbowed her, “Back off, he’s my
man!”
<
There are tons of rich guys who get famous
online.
But someone like Hunter Huntington, who was
hot enough to give movie stars a run for their
money? Those are rare.
Everyone joked about him being their man.
“Hey, did you guys hear the rumor about him disappearing three years ago?”
“I thought he just went overseas to study. There wasn’t a disappearance.”
“Sierra, did you hear?” My roommate
suddenly asked.
I shook my head, “Not really.”
“I heard he was found out West. Sierra, aren’t
you from out there? You must have heard
something.”
“Nope.”
I’m a terrible liar. Thank God the theater was
dark, hiding my guilty face.
Three years ago, Hunter wasn’t just “out
West.”
He was in my house.
Eating and sleeping with me for over a year.
<
At our closest, I held him and slept in the
same bed.
These were secrets I’d take to the grave.
