When she emerged minutes later, she jumped at the sight of him. “Eddie! What are you doing here?” “Thought you might need a pick-me-up,” he said, forcing a smile as he handed her the cup. His voice was steady, but inside, something cracked.
She thanked him, too brightly, and they walked back to her desk. She didn’t mention Lemayan, and Eddie didn’t ask. But the silence between them on the drive home was thick, filled with questions neither dared speak.
That night, as Spokane slept, Katrina stood once again at the window, staring into the dark. The wedding dress hung waiting, the arbor stood ready, the church bells waited to ring. Yet her heart beat in a rhythm not entirely her own.
The week before the wedding was supposed to be the happiest of her life. Instead, it became the moment everything began to unravel. And Spokane, still dreaming of bells and hymns, had no idea what storm was about to break.
It was Saturday afternoon, the air heavy with the smell of rain. The city was alive with relatives and friends, every corner humming with preparations for the wedding. Eddie’s parents were setting up tables in the church hall. Katrina’s mother was fussing with flower arrangements. The choir rehearsed, their voices drifting through the open windows like a promise about to be fulfilled. But in Eddie and Katrina’s apartment, silence reigned.
Katrina sat on the edge of the couch, hands clasped so tightly the knuckles gleamed white. She had rehearsed this moment a hundred times in her head, each version ending differently—tears, rage, forgiveness, silence. Yet nothing prepared her for the reality of Eddie standing across from her, his brow furrowed in quiet concern, his trust still intact. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly, sensing the weight in the room. “You’ve been… distant. Is it the stress? The wedding?”
She looked up at him, and for a moment she almost lied. It would be so easy. A smile, a shake of the head, a promise that she was fine—and the storm would pass, at least for a while. But the beads in her pocket felt like a burning coal, a truth too heavy to bury any longer.
“I can’t do it, Eddie,” she whispered. The words dropped between them like glass shattering. He blinked, as though he hadn’t heard correctly. “Can’t do what?” “The wedding,” she said, her voice trembling. “I can’t marry you.”
For a heartbeat, the world went silent. The hum of the city, the choir’s distant song, even the sound of rain against the window—it all faded. All that remained was Eddie’s face, slack with disbelief. “You’re joking,” he said finally, his voice low, desperate. “Tell me you’re joking.”
Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I wish I were.” He took a step toward her, then stopped, as if afraid of what he might do if he moved any closer. “Why, Katrina? After everything—after all these years—why now?” She swallowed hard. “Because I’m not the same person I was when we said yes. Because I want… something different. Something I can’t find here.”
“Something different?” His voice cracked, anger lacing the words. “We built our whole lives together. From kindergarten to now—we planned everything. And you’re telling me a week before our wedding that you suddenly want ‘different’?” Her tears spilled over. “I’ve met someone, Eddie.”
The silence that followed was worse than any scream. Eddie’s hands clenched at his sides, his face paling. “Who?” he demanded, though deep down he already knew. “Lemayan,” she whispered, the name tasting like betrayal on her tongue.
Eddie’s chest tightened as if all the air had been ripped from the room. He let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “The consultant. The one from Nairobi. That’s it? That’s who you’re throwing everything away for?”
“It’s not that simple,” she said quickly, her voice breaking. “He makes me feel… alive. Like the world is bigger than Spokane, bigger than the plans we’ve had since we were kids. I love you, Eddie, but I can’t marry you out of duty. That wouldn’t be fair—to you, or to me.”
She thanked him, too brightly, and they walked back to her desk. She didn’t mention Lemayan, and Eddie didn’t ask. But the silence between them on the drive home was thick, filled with questions neither dared speak.
That night, as Spokane slept, Katrina stood once again at the window, staring into the dark. The wedding dress hung waiting, the arbor stood ready, the church bells waited to ring. Yet her heart beat in a rhythm not entirely her own.
The week before the wedding was supposed to be the happiest of her life. Instead, it became the moment everything began to unravel. And Spokane, still dreaming of bells and hymns, had no idea what storm was about to break.
It was Saturday afternoon, the air heavy with the smell of rain. The city was alive with relatives and friends, every corner humming with preparations for the wedding. Eddie’s parents were setting up tables in the church hall. Katrina’s mother was fussing with flower arrangements. The choir rehearsed, their voices drifting through the open windows like a promise about to be fulfilled. But in Eddie and Katrina’s apartment, silence reigned.
Katrina sat on the edge of the couch, hands clasped so tightly the knuckles gleamed white. She had rehearsed this moment a hundred times in her head, each version ending differently—tears, rage, forgiveness, silence. Yet nothing prepared her for the reality of Eddie standing across from her, his brow furrowed in quiet concern, his trust still intact. “What’s wrong?” he asked softly, sensing the weight in the room. “You’ve been… distant. Is it the stress? The wedding?”
She looked up at him, and for a moment she almost lied. It would be so easy. A smile, a shake of the head, a promise that she was fine—and the storm would pass, at least for a while. But the beads in her pocket felt like a burning coal, a truth too heavy to bury any longer.
“I can’t do it, Eddie,” she whispered. The words dropped between them like glass shattering. He blinked, as though he hadn’t heard correctly. “Can’t do what?” “The wedding,” she said, her voice trembling. “I can’t marry you.”
For a heartbeat, the world went silent. The hum of the city, the choir’s distant song, even the sound of rain against the window—it all faded. All that remained was Eddie’s face, slack with disbelief. “You’re joking,” he said finally, his voice low, desperate. “Tell me you’re joking.”
Her eyes brimmed with tears. “I wish I were.” He took a step toward her, then stopped, as if afraid of what he might do if he moved any closer. “Why, Katrina? After everything—after all these years—why now?” She swallowed hard. “Because I’m not the same person I was when we said yes. Because I want… something different. Something I can’t find here.”
“Something different?” His voice cracked, anger lacing the words. “We built our whole lives together. From kindergarten to now—we planned everything. And you’re telling me a week before our wedding that you suddenly want ‘different’?” Her tears spilled over. “I’ve met someone, Eddie.”
The silence that followed was worse than any scream. Eddie’s hands clenched at his sides, his face paling. “Who?” he demanded, though deep down he already knew. “Lemayan,” she whispered, the name tasting like betrayal on her tongue.
Eddie’s chest tightened as if all the air had been ripped from the room. He let out a sharp, humorless laugh. “The consultant. The one from Nairobi. That’s it? That’s who you’re throwing everything away for?”
“It’s not that simple,” she said quickly, her voice breaking. “He makes me feel… alive. Like the world is bigger than Spokane, bigger than the plans we’ve had since we were kids. I love you, Eddie, but I can’t marry you out of duty. That wouldn’t be fair—to you, or to me.”
