THE LOVE I WAS NEVER MEANT TO FIND

Amara looked at herself in the mirror. White wedding dress. Perfect hair. Diamond necklace. She looked like a bride from a magazine. But her eyes were swollen. She had been crying. Downstairs, there was music. Laughter. People celebrating. Everyone except her. "Amara?" She turned quickly. It was Lily at the door. "You've been in here for twenty minutes. Are you okay?" Amara wiped her eyes fast and smiled. Fake smile. "I'm fine." Lily walked in and closed the door. She stared at her. "You're not fine. Don't lie to me." Amara's lip was shaking. "Do I have a choice, Lily?" "Yes. You always have a choice." Amara laughed. Bitter laugh. "Not today. Today I have to do this." Three months ago, her father's company collapsed. Just like that. Everything gone. Her father couldn't sleep. Her mother cried every night. Debtors were calling. Banks were threatening. Then Adrian Blackwell came. The richest man in the city. The man everybody is scared of. He told her father, I will pay everything. Every single debt. I will save your company. But there is a condition. Your daughter will marry me. Amara thought it was a joke at first. It wasn't. And now, here she was. Minutes to becoming Mrs. Adrian Blackwell. A man she barely knew. A man who never smiled at her. Not once. Lily held her hands. "Amara, you don't have to do this. You are selling yourself." "If I don't, my parents will lose everything. Our house. Everything," Amara whispered. Tears dropped. "I don't know what else to do." A knock came on the door. A woman's voice, "Miss Amara, it's time." Amara closed her eyes for one second. She tried to imagine a different life. A small wedding. A man who loves her. A man who will look at her eyes and say, I choose you. Immediately, one name came to her mind. Nathan. Her first love. The boy she thought she would marry. Until he left three years ago. No explanation. No goodbye. He just vanished. Amara cleaned her tears. "Let's go." --- The church was full. Rich men. Politicians. Celebrities. Everybody who is somebody in this city. And at the front, standing like a king, was Adrian Blackwell. Tall. Fine. Black suit that fit perfectly. Face like stone. No smile. As Amara walked down the aisle, everyone turned to look at her. But Adrian's eyes did not leave her face. Something was strange about the way he looked at her. Not like a man looking at his wife. Like a man who has been waiting for her for a long time. When she reached him, he brought out his hand. She hesitated, then put her own inside his. His hand was warm. Firm. He held hers like he would never let go. She looked up. "Don't be afraid," he whispered. She almost laughed. "I'm not afraid of you." Something moved in his eyes. "Good." The priest started. Amara heard the words but they sounded far away. Like a dream. Until the priest asked, "Do you, Amara Johnson, take Adrian Blackwell to be your lawful husband?" Silence. Amara looked at Adrian. He did not push her. He just waited. She thought of her father's tired face. Her mother's tears. The bills on the table. Everything depended on this answer. "I do." Her voice was so small. Then it was Adrian's turn. "Do you, Adrian Blackwell, take Amara Johnson to be your lawful wife?" Adrian looked straight into her eyes. "I do." "You may kiss the bride." Amara's heart was beating fast. She thought it would be a small, formal kiss. But Adrian touched her waist gently. He pulled her closer. Their lips met. Just a few seconds. When he pulled back, Amara could not breathe. He stared at her and whispered so low only she heard, "Finally." Amara froze. Finally? What does that mean? --- The reception was big. Too big. Champagne. Loud music. People congratulating them. Amara smiled until her cheek started to pain her. Adrian barely talked. He just stood beside her like a shadow. She couldn't hold it again. "Why did you say 'finally' at the altar?" Adrian turned. "What?" "At the altar. You said finally." "I don't know what you're talking about." "You said it, Adrian." He looked at her for a long second, then looked away. "You heard wrong." Before she could ask again, a waiter came. "Mrs. Blackwell? This was left for you." He gave her a small envelope. No name. Nothing on it. She opened it. Inside was a photo. An old photo. Her, when she was nineteen, standing with Nathan. Her hands started shaking. At the back of the photo, someone wrote with blue pen: YOU SHOULD HAVE MARRIED NATHAN. Her heart beat faster. Below it, another line: ASK YOUR HUSBAND WHY HE KNOWS WHAT HAPPENED THE NIGHT NATHAN DISAPPEARED. Amara stopped breathing. She looked around. Who wrote this? Who left it? She turned slowly and looked at Adrian across the room. He was already looking at her. And for the first time today, his calm face was gone. He looked scared. She walked to him, holding the photo tight. Her hand was shaking. "Adrian. How do you know Nathan?" His face became pale. "Because I was there the night he disappeared." "What?" Her voice cracked. He moved closer. "There is something about your past that your family never told you." "What happened to Nathan?" She was almost crying. Adrian's jaw tightened. He looked into her eyes. "He didn't leave you." Cold ran through her body. "Then where is he?" "He's alive," Adrian said. "And he's coming back for you."