For Better Or For Worse

Eli pressed his eye to the keyhole.

The hallway beyond was dim, lit by a single dying bulb that pulsed like it was taking its last breath. Eli had avoided this door for most of the time he’d lived here.

A chill ran down his spine, and his body twitched as a cold draft slipped past him. He looked over his shoulder. Silence pressed in from both sides of the door. Slowly, he stood tall, his hand caressing the grooves of the wooden frame.

He shouldn’t be here.

He knew that. But he needed to see.

Madam had given clear instructions. If he opened the door, he’d be able to witness a moment from his past — and see it played out alternatively, but if he crossed the threshold, even for a second, he would be pulled into that time and live it forward. There would be no returning. This spell wasn’t just a window — it was a choice.

A bead of sweat slid down his forehead.

He knelt, pressing his hands to the frame once more, and peered through the keyhole. Time began to rewind, slowly, to the moment his stepfather reached out.

The moment he’d heard the voicemail.

“Your mother and I are worried. I know it would mean a lot to her if you just talked to her.”

The "just" in his voice sounded desperate.

“She’s been having a hard time not hearing your voice. She’d like a chance to know what she did wrong. I’d like to hear it too.”

Eli let go of the frame, but he kept his eye pressed to the keyhole, watching.

There he was—himself—knees to his chest, sitting in the old rocking chair. Staring at the phone. Debating whether to call back or press delete.

This was the moment.

In the days leading up to seeking out a witch, Eli had wrestled with what his stepfather was asking of him. They’d never met. And yet this stranger—this man—had the audacity to make such a request.

Eli played out every scenario in his mind. Did Robert know the truth? The half-truth? Or nothing at all?

Would it even be worth it—screaming into the void at a nobody—the pain he'd bottled up for decades? Would it be worth it to know what this man knew?

That curiosity is what had led him to Madam.

She had cleared out her evening schedule for him. This wasn’t her usual kind of responsibility, but Eli’s pure intentions intrigued her.

They met at her altar, sitting across from one another on pillows on the ground. She lit five white candles, dropped charms into a pot, and began the incantation.

Eli, sitting still, fell into a deep trance.

When the vision stopped at himself about to press delete, he opened the door.

“Robert, it’s Eli. I’m open to having a conversation. But I’m not willing to have it with her, yet. If you’re okay with that, we can talk tomorrow.”

The next day, Robert called.

To Eli’s surprise, Robert knew a lot about his current life.

What wasn’t surprising was how little Robert knew about the past. About the chaos. About Eli’s mother. About why things were the way they were. Just fragments of lies.

The Eli standing in the doorway clenched his jaw. The rage bleeding through the vision.

He knew it couldn't be that easy. He knew she would not change.

“Listen, Robert. I’m extending this courtesy to you. But I need you to stop. You have no idea what you’re talking about. I need you to understand that I haven’t allowed anyone to know me, so however she’s getting her information—it’s deeply disturbing. Going no contact wasn’t an easy choice. I don’t know you. And it’s clear you don’t really know my mother—because if you did, you wouldn’t be calling me. You have the audacity to ask so much of me when you know… nothing.”

Tears burned behind Eli’s eyes.

He could admit it—Robert’s plea for peace was admirable. But it didn’t come from a trusted place. Robert kept repeating the word “I”, like that meant Eli owed him the explanation.

His questions turned into negotiations. For a truth. Just one.

It had always been the one.

Eli warned him. Told him that if he explained why she was cut off, Robert would have to accept the consequences.

Robert agreed.

So Eli told him.

All of it. Bare. No jokes. No outbursts. No protection.

Just truth.

“I see,” Robert said, finally.

His voice had changed—softer, like the blinds had finally been lifted. A series of apologies followed. For not knowing. For asking.

For making Eli relive it.

Robert admitted he knew nothing — most of what had been shared with him was either omitted or twisted to cast her as the victim. He thanked Eli for his time, and that was the end.

Time blurred.

Eventually, Robert left Eli’s mother—much the same way Eli had.

With a clear explanation she couldn’t accept.

Leaving her alone to mourn both losses.

Eli, watching from the doorway, felt a sudden urge to step through. To be where she was.

But he stopped himself.

He took a deep breath and stepped back.

The door closed.

The hallway was no longer dim.

A bright light calmed the darkness.

He woke in the presence of Madam.

“Did you see all you wanted to see?”

“Yes.”

“You almost walked into the vision. What stopped you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“There’s a lot she said she’d never do. Remarrying was one of them. I don’t know if she did it because she was lonely, or if it was something else. This man… had the guts to reach out, for one reason or another. And I decided to let her have her happiness. It’ll be what it’ll be. But I won’t be the reason it ends.”

Madam placed a charm around his neck.

“Take this, Eli. Let it remind you—peace can come through many choices.”