Torn between two words
687 Words
The café meeting with Annie lingered in my mind like an unfinished song. Her eyes had softened, just for a heartbeat, when I told her my heart belonged to her. But then she pulled away, and the wall between us seemed higher than ever.
Still, I couldn’t ignore the truth anymore. My life was split in two: the hollow world with Sussan and the fragile, unspoken hope that Annie represented. And every passing day made the choice clearer.
Sussan wasn’t blind to my distance. If anything, she seemed to sense it and doubled down.
“James,” she said one evening as she sat across from me at dinner, her manicured nails tapping against her wine glass, “I’ve been thinking. After the wedding, we should move abroad. Start fresh. Somewhere beautiful—maybe London or Dubai. Somewhere worthy of us.”
“Worthy of you,” I muttered before I could stop myself.
She froze, her eyes narrowing. “What did you say?”
I sighed, pushing my plate away. “Nothing.”
“No, James. You said something.” She leaned forward, her voice low and dangerous. “If you’re having second thoughts, you’d better stop. My father has invested too much in this wedding. Everyone is watching. This isn’t just about us—it’s about families, reputation, power.”
Her words made my stomach twist. Families. Reputation. Power. Not once did she mention love.
I looked at her, really looked at her, and all I saw was someone who wanted my last name and my inheritance—not me.
That night, I walked out without a word, letting the city swallow me. My feet carried me back to the library, the place where I had seen Annie last. She wasn’t there, but just being in the space reminded me of her—the way she smelled faintly of vanilla, the way her hair caught the light.
I sat at the same table she had once occupied and buried my face in my hands.
“What am I doing?” I whispered to no one.
The following days blurred together. Sussan pressed harder about wedding details, while David pulled me aside every chance he got.
“You’re destroying yourself,” he told me one afternoon after class. “This marriage will kill you, James. I can see it. Everyone can see it.”
“Then what do I do?” I asked, desperation creeping into my voice.
“Fight for what you actually want,” David said simply.
And I knew exactly what that was. Annie.
But winning her back wasn’t going to be easy. She avoided me, dodged my calls, and left my messages on “read.” She had built her walls high, and I was the one who had given her reason to.
So I did the only thing I could think of—I began showing up. At the café, at the library, at the places I knew she liked to be. Not to pressure her, but to remind her I was still there.
Sometimes she glared. Sometimes she ignored me. But once, just once, I caught her looking when she thought I wasn’t watching. And in that look, I saw it—the flicker of love she was trying so hard to bury.
It gave me hope.
Meanwhile, Sussan grew restless.
“You’re distracted,” she accused one night, her voice sharp as glass. “You don’t even look at me the same way anymore. Is there someone else?”
The question hung in the air like a blade.
I didn’t answer.
Her eyes narrowed, suspicion igniting into rage. “There is someone. Who is she?”
Still, I stayed silent.
She slammed her hand on the table. “James, don’t you dare humiliate me!”
But her fury only confirmed what I already knew: my heart didn’t belong to her. It never had.
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When I lay in bed that night, staring at the ceiling while Sussan snored beside me, I whispered Annie’s name into the dark.
And for the first time, I didn’t feel guilty.
I felt alive.
- Writer
