Unfinished Chapters
My heart raced as I realized he was here, right in front of me, after all these years apart. Standing in the middle of Barrington’s Book Shop, clutching my latest emotional support Murder Mystery, I couldn't believe my eyes when I saw him in the checkout line with a stack of books in his hand. What was Rohan doing in town? And why hadn't his mother given me a heads up, like she usually did?
Despite the complexities of her son and my past, Miss Pam and I remained close, having quarterly catch-ups to catch up on life's latest twists and turns. She loved me, always had, and I knew that wouldn't change. In fact, I think she loved me even more now that her son was out of the picture. I had gladly given up the dog during our demise, but there was no way I was losing Miss Pam. And she certainly had no intention of letting go of me.
As I watched him from a few feet away, I couldn't help but notice how good he looked. His muscles bulged under his shirt, and his thick locs had grown even longer. The salt-and-pepper in his beard only added to his finess. Memories of our past lovemaking sessions immediately flooded my mind, making my knees weak.
But our love story was never a simple one. As two ambitious professionals whose work often took us away from each other, we broke up and made up more times than I can count across more continents than I could remember. Our passion was intense, but so was the pain of being apart. I clutched my book tightly, thinking of the time we made love so hard and for so long that we passed out next to our fireplace on cold November night in Paris, serenaded by Marvin Gaye on vinyl.
Suddenly, an elderly man interrupted my thoughts, reaching for a book on the shelf behind me. I moved to the side to find Rohan again, only to realize that he had disappeared.
"Shit!" I muttered under my breath, scanning the store frantically for him. I watched as he returned to the checkout line, saying something to the woman he had been standing behind before she stepped back to let him take his place again.
My heart raced with anticipation. Would he recognize me? Did he still feel the same way about me after all these years? I had to find out.
As I took a step towards him, a woman snuggled up to Rohan, adding two more books to his pile. She had long, luscious locs like his and her chiseled physique suggested she was a gym enthusiast, just like him. Had they met at the gym, a place I refused to step foot in with him? Her skin was a flawless shade of brown that looked like it was moisturized with shea butter, as if it was kissed by a divine entity.
Suddenly, I felt small and insignificant, like I hadn't put in any effort to look good for this unexpected encounter. But it was the diamond ring on her finger that felt like a sucker punch to my gut. He was engaged. Possibly married. I felt a wave of nausea hit me but managed to keep my composure.
I mustered up the courage to approach him, but before I could take a step, he looked in my direction and our eyes met. I saw a flicker of recognition in his eyes before his face turned into a frown. He didn't look happy to see me.
"Hey," I said, trying to sound casual as I slowly and awkwardly approached him.
"What are you doing here?" he asked, his tone cold.
"Just grabbing a book," I replied, holding up my Murder Mystery.
He looked at me skeptically for a moment before turning back to the woman next to him. "This is my fiancée, Jada," he said, introducing her.
My heart sank at his words. I just wanted to die right there in my beloved bookstore. It would be the perfect place to bury me anyway. I couldn't help but wonder if things could have been different if I had fought harder for him years ago.
Jada gave me a small smile and said hello before turning back to Rohan. I could tell she was uncomfortable with my presence, and I couldn't blame her.
"I should go," I said, feeling like a fool for even trying to talk to him.
As I turned to leave, Rohan called out my name. "Wait," he said, and I turned back to face him. "We should talk," he added, looking at me with a seriousness that I had never seen before.
I nodded, unsure of what to say.
"Let's grab coffee, I'll reach out," he suggested, and I agreed, trying to hide the eagerness in my voice.
"My number changed since we last spoke," I said softly, hoping he wouldn't notice the slight tremble in my words.
"I know Pam keeps tabs. I'll get it from her," he replied with a slight smile, and my heart skipped a beat. Of course, his mother would have my number. We had managed to keep our friendship a secret from everyone, but I should have known Miss Pam had her ways.
As I walked out of the bookstore, I couldn't help but wonder what he wanted to talk about. Was he going to tell me he made a mistake by getting engaged to Jada? Or was he going to finally tell me how he felt about me? But I pushed those thoughts aside and reminded myself that we were just catching up, nothing more
Only time would tell, but I was willing to find out.
About The Author
Jhéanell is a visionary Writer, Filmmaker and Founder of “Urban Love Stories” who skillfully weaves together themes of love, culture, and spirituality in her art. Her work resonates deeply with audiences, combining vivid imagery with R&B, Hip Hop, and Jamaican Dancehall melodies as the soundtrack to create a truly captivating experience.