He stared at her, his whole body trembling, caught between rage and heartbreak. “Fair?” His voice rose now, raw and jagged. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done? Do you know how many people are counting down the days to our wedding? Our families, our church, this whole city—it’s not just us, Katrina. It’s everything.”
“I know,” she sobbed, covering her face. “I know, and I’m sorry. But I can’t go through with it. I’d be lying to you, lying to myself. And you deserve someone who loves you without doubt.”
For a long moment, Eddie just stood there, his breathing ragged. Then he turned away, pacing the room as though trying to find a way out of a cage that had suddenly closed around him. Finally, he stopped, his back to her. “When?” he asked quietly. She hesitated. “Tomorrow. We’re flying to Kenya. He—he asked me to come with him.”
Eddie spun around, his eyes blazing. “Tomorrow? You’ve already decided? God, Katrina—you didn’t just pull the rug out, you burned the whole house down.” Her sobs shook her, but she didn’t retract her words. She couldn’t. The decision was made.
Eddie stared at her one last time, his face a storm of pain, disbelief, and fury. Then he grabbed his jacket, stormed out the door, and slammed it behind him. The sound echoed through the apartment like a final verdict.
Katrina sat alone, the beads still clenched in her palm. The rain outside turned to a downpour, drumming against the windows as though the city itself was mourning.
In one week, Spokane was expecting bells and vows. Instead, it would receive silence and scandal. The wedding that never happened had just been born.
The morning of the flight dawned gray, the kind of sky that pressed low over Spokane like a warning no one wanted to hear. The city was stirring with weekend chores, with families heading to markets and children riding bikes down quiet streets. But inside the apartment, the air was thick with absence.
Eddie’s jacket still hung on the back of the chair where he’d thrown it nights ago. His toothbrush stood upright in the bathroom cup beside hers. Their framed photo—taken at the river bend, both of them laughing mid-skip of a stone—still grinned from the mantel. To anyone else, it would look like a home preparing for a wedding. But the truth was already unraveling.
Katrina zipped her suitcase in silence. Each click of the metal teeth sounded final. She glanced around the apartment, her chest tightening. Everything here was familiar: the mug she always reached for, the blanket Eddie pulled over her when she fell asleep on the couch, the ring still glittering on her finger. She twisted it once, twice, and then slid it off, placing it gently on the table beside the couch. It caught the dim light one last time, like a star fading out of sight. Her phone buzzed. Car outside. Ready? Lemayan. She drew in a shaky breath, grabbed the suitcase, and walked out without looking back.
The airport was a blur of motion—suitcases rolling across tile, the hiss of espresso machines, announcements echoing overhead. Yet for Katrina, the noise seemed distant, as though she were moving underwater. Lemayan walked beside her, calm and steady, his presence commanding attention without effort. Heads turned as he passed, but he seemed unaware—or perhaps simply uninterested.
“You’re quiet,” he said as they waited at the gate. “Everything feels… unreal,” she admitted, her voice barely above the hum of travelers. “It will feel real soon enough,” he said. “When the sky changes color and the air greets you like family.”
She nodded, clutching her boarding pass. Part of her wanted to run, to call Eddie, to beg for forgiveness. But another part—the part that longed for horizons—tightened its grip on the beads still tucked in her bag.
“I know,” she sobbed, covering her face. “I know, and I’m sorry. But I can’t go through with it. I’d be lying to you, lying to myself. And you deserve someone who loves you without doubt.”
For a long moment, Eddie just stood there, his breathing ragged. Then he turned away, pacing the room as though trying to find a way out of a cage that had suddenly closed around him. Finally, he stopped, his back to her. “When?” he asked quietly. She hesitated. “Tomorrow. We’re flying to Kenya. He—he asked me to come with him.”
Eddie spun around, his eyes blazing. “Tomorrow? You’ve already decided? God, Katrina—you didn’t just pull the rug out, you burned the whole house down.” Her sobs shook her, but she didn’t retract her words. She couldn’t. The decision was made.
Eddie stared at her one last time, his face a storm of pain, disbelief, and fury. Then he grabbed his jacket, stormed out the door, and slammed it behind him. The sound echoed through the apartment like a final verdict.
Katrina sat alone, the beads still clenched in her palm. The rain outside turned to a downpour, drumming against the windows as though the city itself was mourning.
In one week, Spokane was expecting bells and vows. Instead, it would receive silence and scandal. The wedding that never happened had just been born.
The morning of the flight dawned gray, the kind of sky that pressed low over Spokane like a warning no one wanted to hear. The city was stirring with weekend chores, with families heading to markets and children riding bikes down quiet streets. But inside the apartment, the air was thick with absence.
Eddie’s jacket still hung on the back of the chair where he’d thrown it nights ago. His toothbrush stood upright in the bathroom cup beside hers. Their framed photo—taken at the river bend, both of them laughing mid-skip of a stone—still grinned from the mantel. To anyone else, it would look like a home preparing for a wedding. But the truth was already unraveling.
Katrina zipped her suitcase in silence. Each click of the metal teeth sounded final. She glanced around the apartment, her chest tightening. Everything here was familiar: the mug she always reached for, the blanket Eddie pulled over her when she fell asleep on the couch, the ring still glittering on her finger. She twisted it once, twice, and then slid it off, placing it gently on the table beside the couch. It caught the dim light one last time, like a star fading out of sight. Her phone buzzed. Car outside. Ready? Lemayan. She drew in a shaky breath, grabbed the suitcase, and walked out without looking back.
The airport was a blur of motion—suitcases rolling across tile, the hiss of espresso machines, announcements echoing overhead. Yet for Katrina, the noise seemed distant, as though she were moving underwater. Lemayan walked beside her, calm and steady, his presence commanding attention without effort. Heads turned as he passed, but he seemed unaware—or perhaps simply uninterested.
“You’re quiet,” he said as they waited at the gate. “Everything feels… unreal,” she admitted, her voice barely above the hum of travelers. “It will feel real soon enough,” he said. “When the sky changes color and the air greets you like family.”
She nodded, clutching her boarding pass. Part of her wanted to run, to call Eddie, to beg for forgiveness. But another part—the part that longed for horizons—tightened its grip on the beads still tucked in her bag.
