Page 29 of Revenge of the Forgotten

That newfound hope kept her awake, driving her towards what might be the reason she’d never felt whole.

“Okay, so no Netflix, but there are TVs and radios?” Vega learned about their world and the beautiful gowns Tolevarre was known for—the balls, the holidays, how their world was up to date in technological advances but still didn’t have nor need all the things Earth had.

Arlet took a sip of her coffee, preferring hers with cream and a single pack of sugar. Vega didn’t want any of the extras—Arlet knew that, surprising her at their first stop with a large black, no frill coffee. Arlet chuckled, holding the coffee between her hands, her feet crossed underneath her lap. “Correct. We have TVs, but no shows or movies, nothing of the sort. They’re called monitors, and they’re used for official announcements, government stuff. If Marlena has an announcement, it’ll be played on one of those. They’re not something every household has. Most families in the outlying territories have to make their way into town for news.” Arlet paused, blowing on the still-warm drink in her hands. “We have them at our camp, too, to keep an eye on whatever it is Marlena tells the people. Typically it’s a bunch of brainwashing bullshit. She tells everyone she’s keeping them safe from the rebels when really, she cares nothing about them, only what they can do for her. She throws them scraps when they behave and takes what little they have when they don’t.

“As for radios, we have things similar to record players with prerecorded music, no live stations. The army uses comm-devices to keep in touch from across the realm, but again, those aren’t attainable for most. Only the ones in control or the ones who can afford it.”

Vega sipped her coffee. “Which is why it pays off to be powerful, huh?”

“Exactly, but it wasn’t always like that. The Curia was created by the twelve original bloodlines when Tolevarre was born to ensure that not one person had too much power, that there was balance in leadership.” Arlet told the history of this world without an ounce of hesitation, like it was fact and not still a complete tale to Vega.

“Until Marlena,” Vega stated.

“Until Marlena,” Arlet echoed.

Vega rubbed her temples with one hand, groaning. “My head hurts. This world doesn’t sound any fun. I’m just leaving one messy life in exchange for what sounds like an even worse one.” Vega let out a soft chuckle, trying to find the humor in this last history lesson.

From its place in Arlet’s lap, Vega’s phone rang with a familiar tone. Her head whipped over to see Arlet holding her phone up, Chase’s name and a picture of him smiling while Vega planted a kiss on his cheek spread across the screen. “Fuck.” She reached for the device and held it in one hand while she kept the other on the steering wheel.

“You can ignore him if that’s what you want,” Arlet reminded her.

Chase would call the cops—Vega knew he would. The last thing she wanted was to deal with what might come of having a missing persons report filed on her. Ya know, if this ends up all being a figment of my imagination or a full-on hallucination from lack of sleep.

Vega answered the phone, but before she could utter a word, Chase cut through.

“Vega? Vega, is that you?” His voice was panicked.

“Hi, Chase,” Vega said with an exhale.

“Fuck. Where are you? Are you okay? What is going on?”

Vega rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, relax.”

“Relax? Relax?” His voice raised to a shrill, ugly pitch. “You completely disappeared. Your passport is gone, your travel bag is gone, and you told no one you were leaving!”

“Who was I supposed to tell I was leaving, huh? You? Oh, maybe I should’ve called Jessica!” Vega didn’t bother turning the volume down, allowing Arlet to lean over the center console to hear every word uttered.

“Jesus Christ, Vega! I am still your husband. We’re still married!” Vega could hear him pacing, his footsteps echoing against creaky floors. “We can figure this out. We can get counseling. Just come home, and we’ll talk about it.”

“Counseling?” It was Vega’s turn to have a screeched response. “I don’t want counseling! I want a divorce.”

“Don’t say that,” he interrupted, having the audacity to sound hurt.

“Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare play the victim here.” Vega’s speed picked up as her anger grew. “You did this. You caused me to leave! I have been through too much in my life to do this, Chase. I can’t—I can’t be with someone I don’t trust. You were my person. My person… and you cheated on me when I was at my lowest. Why? Huh? Why.” Vega waited for his response, unaware Arlet had settled back in her seat in an attempt to give Vega a little privacy.

“If you come home, we can talk about it. I’m so sorry. I broke it off with Jessica. I had a lapse in judgment.”

“You know what? Shove that apology back down your throat and choke on it,” Vega spat, leaning forward in her seat as if he were in front of her, not the open highway.

“I didn’t call you to fight. I?—”

Vega cut him off. “Oh, I’m not fighting. I’m telling you what you deserve to hear. You deserve to know what a shit person you are, how little of a man you are that you’d cheat on your wife because she lost her job and didn’t fit into your pretty little picture anymore. How much of a coward you are that you couldn’t just be honest with me about not loving me anymore.” She choked out the last few words, biting on the inside of her cheek so hard she tasted blood, only to realize the feeling inside her chest wasn’t sadness.

She forced the tears back and took a deep breath, calming herself enough to continue. “I should have told you this in person so I could see the look on your face, but I was too sad, too hurt. But guess what, Chase?”

There was silence on the other end.

“I’m not sad anymore. I’m pissed. Stop calling me. I’m done.” Vega ended the call and tossed the phone into the cup holder with a clatter.

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