Chapter Four: Anniversary Plans
1151 Words
August 24, 2023. Nairobi.
The evening began with promise.
Adrian hummed under his breath as he set the table in his Kilimani apartment, the city beyond his balcony glowing in amber dusk. He had gone all out: candles lined the table, saffron rice simmered on the stove, and a bottle of Shiraz breathed in its glass neck. He wanted the night to feel perfect. Three years apart, weeks of reunion, and now their first anniversary together again.
He checked the clock-7:30 p.m. Elena would be home any minute. He straightened the cutlery, adjusted the napkins, then stood back and laughed at himself. “You look like a nervous schoolboy,” he muttered.
But he couldn’t help it.
He still remembered the airport reunion as if it had been yesterday, the taste of her kiss, the relief of her arms. Tonight was meant to be a seal, a promise renewed: they had survived the oceans, storms, and silence. They had made it here. Together.
A knock sounded at the door. Adrian’s heart jolted, but it wasn’t Elena. A delivery boy handed him a small parcel: a record he had ordered weeks ago—Elena’s favorite, a rare vinyl pressing of Édith Piaf. He grinned. Perfect timing.
He placed it carefully on the player, ready for later, imagining her smile when the first notes played.
Meanwhile, across town, Elena walked briskly down Moi Avenue, her black coat swaying in the warm night breeze. The jewelry district hummed with the glow of neon signs, their garish colors bouncing off the glass panes.
She glanced at her phone. A message draft glowed unsent: On my way back soon. Got you something. She hesitated, then deleted it. She wanted the gift to be a surprise.
Inside Lusaka Jewels, the store smelled of polish and metal, its velvet-lined cases glittering with promises. Elena leaned over the counter, pointing at a delicate silver chain.
“This one,” she said.
The jeweler raised an eyebrow. “A fine choice. Rare work, imported. For yourself?”
“For someone I love,” she replied, her lips curling softly at the thought of Adrian.
But behind her, the bell above the door chimed.
Three men entered. Their faces were half-hidden under caps, their movements too sharp, too deliberate. One locked the door. Another drew a gun.
Elena’s heart clenched.
Back at the apartment, Adrian lit the last candle. The room shimmered in amber light, shadows dancing against the walls. He poured two glasses of wine and raised his to the air.
“To us,” he whispered, smiling at his own foolishness. He sat back, checking his watch again. 8:00. Still no sign of her.
He texted: Everything okay?
No reply.
At the store, chaos erupted.
“Everyone down!” one of the masked men barked, waving his pistol. The jeweler froze, hands trembling above the glass case. Customers screamed, crouching low.
Elena’s instinct was to comply. To drop. To disappear. But when the man’s gaze landed on her, it lingered. Recognition flickered.
“You,” he muttered under his breath.
Elena’s pulse spiked. Not random. Not robbery.
The second man smashed the glass case, sweeping jewels into a bag. The third kept his gun fixed on Elena. His jaw tightened as though he had been given specific instructions.
“Don’t move,” he warned.
9:00 p.m. Adrian’s unease grew.
The saffron rice had cooled, the wine untouched. He paced the living room, phone clutched in his hand.
He called. No answer. He called again. Voicemail.
His stomach twisted. Elena had always been cautious, always answered. Unless...
He forced the thought away. She was probably delayed, stuck in traffic, maybe buying dessert. Nairobi nights could be unpredictable.
Still, he couldn’t shake the knot tightening in his chest.
The robbery spiraled.
The jeweler fumbled with a locked drawer, trying to retrieve a hidden stash. One of the gunmen cursed, pistol-whipping him. Blood spattered across the glass.
Elena remained frozen, the muzzle inches from her chest. The man guarding her leaned close, his breath acrid. “Should’ve stayed gone.”
Her eyes widened. So it was true. This wasn’t about the jewels. It was about her.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she whispered, though her voice trembled.
But he knew. And she knew he knew.
The shot rang out before she could breathe again.
9:30 p.m.
Adrian’s phone vibrated. A call from an unknown number.
“Mr. Adrian Mwangi?” a clipped voice asked.
“Yes.”
“This is Officer Nyaga, Central Police. There’s been… an incident. We need you to come to Nairobi General Hospital.”
The room seemed to tilt. Adrian gripped the counter, his knuckles white. “What incident? Is she okay? Tell me!”
“Sir, please. Come at once.”
The line went dead.
Adrian grabbed his keys, heart pounding like a war drum. Candles flickered as he slammed the door, the untouched dinner glowing in lonely silence.
Nairobi General.
The corridors smelled of bleach and despair. Adrian burst through the doors, chest heaving. He saw uniforms, nurses, stretchers.
“Where is she?” he demanded.
A nurse guided him toward the trauma unit. Through the glass, he caught a glimpse: Elena on the gurney, blood staining her blouse, tubes snaking into her veins. Doctors crowded around, voices sharp and urgent.
Adrian staggered back, his breath catching in his throat. He pressed his palm against the cold glass, whispering her name.
“Elena…”
His reflection stared back-pale, broken, helpless.
Meanwhile, in a dark alley two miles away, the three gunmen regrouped.
The leader pulled off his mask, revealing a scar across his cheek. He spat to the side. “Job’s done. She won’t be talking to anyone now.”
The youngest of them shifted uneasily. “We didn’t need to shoot her. She wasn’t fighting.”
The scarred man narrowed his eyes. “Orders were clear. No loose ends.”
He lit a cigarette, the ember glowing in the dark. “You boys think this was a robbery? Think again. That woman was a target. And if you know what’s good for you, you’ll never ask why.”
The night swallowed their laughter as sirens wailed in the distance.
Back at the hospital, Adrian waited outside the operating room, his body numb. Every tick of the clock scraped against his nerves. His mind replayed the evening-the candles, the wine, her smile when she left.
She had promised to be his forever. And yet, somewhere between love and destiny, the universe had taken her.
He bowed his head, tears blurring his vision.
If she survives, I’ll never let her out of my sight again.
But deep inside, something darker stirred-a seed of suspicion.
The police had called it a robbery. Yet Adrian couldn’t shake the thought: Why her? Why now?
And what had Elena been hiding all along?
End of Chapter Four.
- Writer
