If Not Mine, Then No One’s

Chapter 9

He had lived in the Netherlands. We met there—high school halls, shy smiles, the kind of teenage love that feels like it will last forever. He was gentle, kind; he never hurt anyone. After graduation I enrolled in college, and he proposed. We married, and I put my studies on hold. For three years I gave myself entirely to him.

But then he changed. He started coming home late, sometimes not until after midnight. He grew distant, cold toward me, and after his younger brother and his close friend died, everything about him shifted. He began drinking. It felt as though he was trying to slip away from me. Then, on what should have been the happiest day of my life—the day I received the best news I had ever had—he sent me a single message: “Forget me.” After that, he vanished without a trace.

“Oh my God,” Sara breathed, pulling me into a hug. I was about to tell her the worst part, the memory I could never forget, but my throat closed. Maybe it was better to keep that wound hidden for a while longer.

“What are you going to tell me?” she asked softly.

“Nothing,” I lied. “Let’s just go.”

“Don’t you think you should confront him?” Sara insisted. “We came here for that—this could be our chance to make him pay.”

For a few seconds I was still. Maybe she was right. Perhaps it would be better to face him, to look him in the eyes and, little by little, take back what he had taken from me.

“All right,” I said at last.

I wiped my face, steadied my breath, and we went back inside.

“Where is Mr. Jonz?” Sara asked when we reached the room.

“I’m sorry, but the meeting will be postponed for a few days,” Dante answered, looking apologetic in a way that didn’t reach his eyes.

“How?” Sara demanded.

“Due to a small issue—” Dante began.

“Are you kidding us?” Sara snapped.

“Please do not interrupt me while I’m speaking,” he said sharply, turning to her with an edge in his voice.

“And I’d ask you next time not to call us in just to play with us,” Sara shot back.

“We are not playing ,” Dante replied. “There was a problem, that’s all.”

“You can’t be serious—your boss just ran out like a madman—” Sara started, incredulous.

“Do not force me to have you removed by force,” Dante warned, his tone suddenly cold.

Sara opened her mouth, furious, but bit back whatever she was going to say. The room hummed with a tense silence. Around us, people shifted uneasily, the promise of the meeting dissolving into something sharp and uncertain. I stood there, my pulse thrumming in my ears, the memory of him still a fresh wound waiting to be either reopened or finally healed.