Chapter 1
I had been trying to get in touch with John for what seemed like forever.
Over the last two days, I had made numerous calls to his cell phone, but he had never picked up. I left voicemails. No answer. I texted. Nothing.
John had never been the kind to turn his back on me. He had always been there for me in the two and a half years that we had been dating—responsive, considerate, and attentive. He would at least give me a quick message or give me a call back as soon as he had a moment, even on his busiest days. He was the type of man who did that. dependable. trustworthy.
So far.
There was a problem.
John Brown, my fiancé, was an extremely attractive African American man. Being 5'7", he exuded a confident demeanor that inevitably drew attention. He had a powerful yet elegant presence due to his broad shoulders and athletic build. He had the effortless richness and smooth, deep brown skin of someone who had just stepped out of a magazine.
But his intense, dark eyes, which always had something hidden beneath the surface, were what really captured people's attention. A secret. A pledge. A mystery. His unquestionable charm was further enhanced by his high cheekbones, sharp jawline, and effortless grace.
From his clean, well-fitting clothes to his well-groomed, thick, wavy hair, he was always put together. He exuded sophistication and a subdued strength that caused people to pause and pay attention.
However, he was no longer present.
The quiet was oppressive.
The uneasiness that was weighing heavily on my chest persisted. Had he been harmed? Was he injured?
The worst ideas began to seep into my head. Perhaps he was hurt and lying somewhere, unable to get to his phone. Or worse. No, I would not allow my thoughts to go there.
I could not help but remember the night he proposed. Even though it had only been a few months, it seemed to last forever. John had taken me to a remote location close to the beach that night. The rolling waves were softly illuminated by the gold and crimson hues of the sky painted by the setting sun.
The warm air had smelled of salt and something sweet, like vanilla, but I could not identify the source. It was one of those evenings when everything seemed to have come together for us, as if the stars had aligned themselves.
John had turned to me while our friends were around, their phones out to record the moment. He had a steady, unflinching gaze that was full of something more than love.
After that, he had knelt down.
He had said, "Marry me," in a confident, unflinching voice.
And I had said yes without thinking.
It had been the ideal evening. We had made countless toasts, laughed, and listened to music as we celebrated. I felt like I was already a member of the family after meeting his mother and a few of his relatives, who all had warm smiles. I had been thinking about that night's happiness for weeks.
However, how had we arrived at this point from that ideal moment?
This terrible quiet. This crippling uncertainty.
With shaking fingers, I pressed my phone to my chest.
Had I made a mistake? Had I pushed him away without realizing it?
I bit my lip as I scrolled through our previous exchanges, looking for any indication that something had changed. However, nothing out of the ordinary was present. We had been texting normally. Even loving.
Why, then, was he avoiding me?
My mind raced with ideas, each one more horrifying than the one before it.
All of it became too much to bear. With my arms encircling my body, I curled up on my couch and wished the anxiety away. Perhaps I should just send him a final message. Even though I was not sure what I had done wrong, I might even offer an apology.
I was typing a message when the front door suddenly opened.
As my friends entered, their enthusiasm from the previous evening still pulsing, laughter erupted throughout the room. They had gone clubbing, and based on their exhausted yet excited faces, it had been a crazy night.
The group's most theatrical member, Juliet, clapped her hands together. Her eyes were bright with excitement as she said, "You will not believe who we saw at the club last night."
Her words hardly registered with me.
"The club?" Uninterested, I repeated. I was still thinking about John.
As though to reveal a delectable secret, Juliet leaned closer. "The club, indeed."
We had a reputation for enjoying gossip and being quick to analyze the newest events. I would normally have been the first to listen and delve into all the juicy details. However, I was not feeling it today.
I said in a shaky voice, "Look, I do not care who you saw at the club." I am currently dealing with my own issues. My calls are not being returned by John, and I am concerned. What if he suffered an injury? My nervousness caused my voice to break.
Sandra grinned, but there was also sympathy in her face.
With her arms crossed, she said, "Oh, something happened, okay." "I believe you will want to hear this as well."
After a moment of hesitation, Juliet reached for my hand. "Mary," she said softly, "last night we saw John. in the club.
I went cold.
I felt my stomach tighten.
"John?" My voice was hardly audible as I whispered. "You mean—my John?"
The excitement in Juliet's face subsided and gave way to something more akin to regret.
"I apologize," she said quietly. However, he was not by himself. There was another person with him. A female. They were dancing close to one another. It appeared to be more than just friends.
The earth swayed under me.
I was unable to breathe for a while.
I hardly had time to process the words before I started to move.
With shaking hands, I snatched up my handbag, my body responding before my mind could process it.
"Where are you going, Mary?" Sandra approached me with a worried tone in her voice.
However, I had already started to move toward the door.
I had no idea where I was heading.
When I arrived, I had no idea what I would do.
That I had to see it for myself was all I knew.
Because if they were telling the truth...
Then I realized that everything I believed to be true about John and us had been false.
