Chapter 20: Visit Before Goodbye
1283 Words
"I kissed a girl"
"WHATTTTT!?"
Julia sat up like someone had lit a fire under her.
Cynthia's jaw dropped.
"Don't tell us…" Julia said, narrowing her eyes. "It was Evelyn, wasn't it?"
Jane didn't answer right away—but her expression gave everything away.
"It was Evelyn."
Julia clutched her chest like she'd been shot. "Of course it was Evelyn. Honestly, that girl's been drooling over you since the third month you two worked the night shift."
Jane let out a tired laugh. "She told me she loved me… and then our boss caught us."
Cynthia blinked. "Caught you how?"
"Kissing."
Both girls screamed into the throw pillows.
"Your gay ass is hot," Cynthia muttered dramatically. "You are fire, Jane. You walk into a room and suddenly women are throwing themselves at you."
Julia cackled. "And yet your family wants you to marry Collins just to… what? Be normal?"
Jane shrugged. "They think I've already embarrassed them enough. My dad did damage, and now they're depending on me to 'restore' the family name."
"That's not your job," Cynthia said softly. "You're allowed to just exist, Jane. You're allowed to love who you love."
"But not here," Jane whispered. "Not in this country. Not with my family."
She stared ahead, eyes hollow.
"And if I go ahead and marry him… I may never see Evelyn again. Or Jose. Or me."
The girls looked at each other. Julia stood abruptly. "Okay. I'm not letting you go down like this."
Jane blinked. "What?"
"Tomorrow," Julia said. "We make a plan. You can't keep reacting to the world's hate. You need a way out."
"A way out of what?" Jane asked.
"Everything," Cynthia said, gently rubbing her arm. "This nightmare. This trap. We're going to help you, okay? But not tonight."
"Tonight," Julia added, "you rest. We'll binge your favorite series. And I swear, if I hear one more self-hating word from you, I will pour ice water on your head."
Jane laughed, and for the first time in days—it was real.
She was still broken. Still hurting. Still unsure of what tomorrow might bring.
But at least she wasn't alone.
Three days had passed, and Jane had finally made peace with her decision—no matter how painful. She was going to marry Collins.
Cynthia and Julia had fought it, argued, cried, pleaded. But in the end, they respected her choice. What else could they do? Jane wasn't just heartbroken—she was broken by the weight of expectations, by the fear of dragging someone else down with her.
And that someone… was Jose.
Jose didn't deserve to be dragged through the mud of Jane's reality. She deserved a woman who had the world to offer, not one drowning in societal chains and family pressure. Jane had loved her with all her heart—but love wasn't enough. Not this time.
But there was still Evelyn.
Jane owed her something.
Closure.
Peace.
One final memory that wouldn't feel like betrayal.
She drove quietly, her hands trembling on the wheel. Evelyn's mansion came into view—tall, grand, and nothing like the woman Jane used to think she was. The gates opened like they had been waiting for her all week.
FLASHBACK – The Fall That No One Warned Jane About
The shop had been her mother's pride. Her crown.
A spacious corner store tucked at a bustling corner near the central market—once filled with bales of fabric, drums of cooking oil, cartons of soap, sugar, salt, rice, and something more fragile: dignity.
Everyone called her Madam Comfort. She was the woman who had built herself from the ground up. Traders nodded when she passed, children paused to wave. People envied her strength.
And then—he came.
Her husband's elder brother.
Uncle Jone.
He was blood. Trusted. A man who used to play with Jane and her siblings, call them by pet names, bring small gifts and share stories by firelight.
But what he brought this time wasn't love.
It was ruin.
It started subtly. A few missing cartons. Then whole shelves emptied overnight. At first, they thought the workers were being careless—maybe someone forgot to lock up, maybe it was petty theft.
But the thefts didn't stop.
Each time Charlotte tried to recover—restock, rebuild, reinforce the locks—another wave would strike. Like the shop was cursed. She had no cameras, no alarms. Just her instincts.
She stayed quiet, even when her heart screamed suspicion.
She didn't want to accuse anyone. Especially not her husband's family.
But still, the losses piled up.
And then came the final night.
He was caught.
Red-handed.
Climbing over the back wall under the pale moonlight, dragging two sacks of goods. The local security men cornered him before he could vanish into the dark.
People gathered.
Gasps filled the street as they realized who it was. The thief wasn't a stranger. He was her own brother-in-law.
The shame hit harder than poverty ever could.
Police were called. Uncle Jone was handcuffed and dragged away, shouting for forgiveness. But the market was already whispering.
"That's the woman whose own family stole from her…"
"Maybe she brought this on herself…"
Trust dissolved like salt in rain.
And with it, her business crumbled.
Her husband, already growing distant, was the next to disappear. The man Charlotte had clothed, fed, and carried for years. The man who once promised forever.
He began coming home late. Drunk. Irritable. Picking fights over nothing.
Then one night, he left—and never returned.
No call. No note.
He left her alone to hold together what was left of a house, a business, and a family.
Jane was far away. Deep in medical school, surrounded by books and labs and deadlines. Her voice on the phone was always bright. She had no idea her world back home was falling apart.
Charlotte couldn't tell her.
How could she?
How could she tell her firstborn daughter that her shop was gone? That she had sold their house just to clear debts and feed the younger ones?
That her husband—their father—had vanished?
Their beautiful house was sold off quietly.
She packed what was left of their life and rented a modest apartment on the edge of the city. Two rooms. Peeling walls. Thin ceilings. Cracked windows. But it was a shelter.
To survive, she started selling tomatoes at a borrowed stall in the open market—under the sun, under the rain, behind her pride.
She never told Jane.
She smiled through every call.
"We're managing, my dear. Just focus on your books."
And then the day came.
Jane returned—stethoscope swinging, suitcase full of promise. She had completed medical school. She was coming home.
But the home she remembered was gone.
She stood at the front of a rusted gate, holding the address her mother had sent. Her brows furrowed. Her heart pounded.
"This can't be it…"
But it was.
The paint was faded. The compound is empty. She stepped inside, hoping it was a mistake. But the truth echoed in the silence.
No father's voice. No polished tiles. No perfume lingering in the hallway. Only a broken ceiling fan and walls that had forgotten joy.
She turned to her mother, who stood in the tiny kitchen, tying her wrapper.
"Ma… What happened?"
Charlotte didn't say much. Her eyes were tired. Her shoulders had forgotten how to rest.
She gave a soft smile and replied,
"Life."
And just like that—
Jane's world cracked.
Not because of what she saw.
But because no one told her it was all burning while she was away chasing a dream.
- Writer
