I stared at those photos until the sting in my chest faded into something colder. Until it stopped hurting. And that’s when I started peeling away the memories. One piece at a time.
The way he held me when I cried. The time he killed a man for brushing my arm at a party.
The island he shut down on my birthday just to watch me smile.
All of it—gone.
---
Then one morning, they came back.
No announcement. No warning.
Hakeem walked in like nothing had happened. Like I hadn’t died a little every day while he was gone.
He stood in the living room, loosened his tie, and said, “Margaret told me the only thing she regrets is not getting to marry me. So I’m fixing that. Let's get divorce now so I can finally give her the wedding she wanted.”
He didn’t even look at me when he said it. Just dropped the words like a business deal.
No explanation. Just a decision.
I looked at him. Really looked at him. This was the same man who used to whisper he’d bury the world for me. Who once told me I was his religion in a world full of lies. Now he looked at me like I was nothing but noise in the background.
I wanted to ask, “Do you love her?”
But I already knew. I’d known it from the moment she came back.