fiancé
Five years ago, my fiancé, David, died in the line of duty. They never recovered his body. Then, this past August, at exactly 8:17 pm,
Detective Reynolds called. He said they’d found David. Alive. And getting married.
- 1.
The drive to that coastal town felt like an
eternity. Reynolds and his partner tried to prepare me, but I clung to hope. He’d chased me for two years, spoiled me for five, proposed twice. How could he forget me? I rubbed the simple silver band on my finger. He’d proposed!
How could he marry someone else?
The flight was followed by a five–hour bus ride
that left me nauseous. Ten hours later, we
finally arrived.
“There,” Reynolds pointed to a cozy B&B called
100
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“Sunshine Days.” It had recently become
popular thanks to some photos a tourist had posted, especially one featuring the owner’s
profile. Even a glimpse was enough to send the internet into a frenzy.
Reynolds glanced at me. “He doesn’t remember anything. You have to be…”
I stared at the door, my senses numb.
Reynolds pushed it open, triggering a chime of seashells.
A large courtyard greeted us, a cobblestone
path leading to the house. There was a huge
swing, a golden retriever, and a bunch of cats. I stared at them, bewildered.
Then a man emerged from behind a beaded curtain. Tall, athletic, his arms toned beneath a black T–shirt. His profile was sharp, angular.
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My body froze. My head buzzed. It was like all
my functions shut down, except for my eyes, which remained locked on him.
I’d seen people who resembled David, even down to the tear–shaped mole beneath his eye. But I knew instantly this wasn’t him. This man was older, harder, his features more defined.
I moved closer, drawn in like a moth to a flame, until I saw the mole, the red string around his neck…
“Da…..David…” I whispered, terrified of scaring
him away.
He looked up, his eyes filled with utter
confusion. “Excuse me?”
“David…” I choked out.
He stared coldly. “I’m sorry, miss, you have the
wrong person.”
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12:39
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But I knew David. I could never mistake him. He
was half my soul.
Reynolds stepped in. “Sorry about that. Do you
have any vacancies?”
David, arms crossed, scrutinized us. “Yeah.
How many rooms?”
“Two.”
“Come in.” He turned and walked inside
without a backward glance. I’d naively thought
that seeing me would trigger his memory. That
everything would change. But his gaze had
been distant, sharp, almost annoyed.
I hadn’t cried when I heard he was alive. I hadn’t
cried when I learned he was getting married.
But his look…it squeezed my heart until it
ached, and tears streamed down my face.
