Simon left without a word. It was the third man to walk out on me, the third to vanish as silently as a sigh. We had lain together the night before, and in the morning wed spoken of holidays, of escape. By evening he was back from work, his shirt still on the hook, his toothbrush goneeverything taken, leaving me with an empty house and a blocked phone, a blacklist on every social platform. What had I done to deserve that?
When Victor, my first love, vanished I stalked him from his office, waited by the flat entrance, penned endless letters begging for an explanation. He told me Id find happiness, just not with him. I could not get any more from him. I loved him so fiercely I abandoned every principle, gave myself to him as if we were headed for a wedding.
I grew up in a childrens home, a fact wrapped in the rumors that girls from such places either ran wild or never dared to love. I was of the latter sort. For a year Victor and I savoured a quiet bliss, saving for a wedding and a lavish honeymoon. The council had given me a modest studio flat. One morning I awoke alone; Victor had evaporated, fleeing the city after my relentless questioning. My heart cracked like a stale biscuit, and foolish pigeons pecked at the pieces, inflicting an unbearable ache.
My husband cant just disappear, my friends whispered. You must have slipped up somewhere, their husbands added with a knowing nod. If Id erred, surely Id sense whereeverything had been perfect.
The bloke probably found some flirty lass, Aunt Tessa, the office cleaner, had muttered. Youre just overthinking. Spit it out, darling, and quit worrying about a man who isnt yours.
For over a year I could not settle until Ian appeared. My pulse stuttered, a longforgotten thrill rushing back. I kept him in a friend zone until he proposed: a wedding, a honeymoon in Bali, me the happiest bride, Ian soaring on loves wings. Three months later he returned to his homeland and never came back, signing the divorce papers through a solicitor without a single facetoface conversation.
Now came Sergeno, I meant Samuel. I fell into such a depression I thought of sleeping forever. Anyone whos been there will understand. I stopped working, stopped eating, forced myself out of bed only for necessities that vanished after a couple of days. I was quietly fading. Then a grating sound, like someone scraping a door, jolted me awake. Simon was back! From where did his strength arise? I fluttered to the door, caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror, recoiled, then flung the portal open to my supposed happiness only to find emptiness. Just a glitch, I muttered, theyve arrived. The final stop.
A sudden craving for strong, sweet tea seized me. My legs trembled, nausea rose in my throat. I shuffled to the kitchen, brewed a second scorching sip, and a longforgotten warmth spread through my veins, urging me to live. My body, however, was so weak it refused obedience. For a week I fed it droplet by droplet, grateful that the fridge still held supplies. By weekend I managed to leave the flat, clutching a garbage bag. Near the refuse chute a mangy creature rolled out, barking and staring at my sack with hopeful eyes.
Sorry, little one, theres nothing for you in there, I said. If you wait, Ill buy you a sausage and a bottle of milk. The beast blinked and slipped back into the chute. Peering inside I saw a cardboard box and two metal bowlssomeone had been feeding a puppy, though the bowls were now empty.
On impulse I bought dog food and a flea collar. Returning, the puppy was gone, along with the box and bowls.
Hey, where are you? I called. Silence answered. A voice floated down from above, I threw it outjust a dirty mess! I descended, scoured the block, but found no trace. A heaviness settled again on my chest. I went back home, my appetite that had flared in the shop vanished. I switched on the TV, mindlessly flicked channels. A strange scraping sound returned at the door. This time I knew it wasnt Simon. Yet the thrill was more intense than any wedding night. The beast barked, barreling into the flat.
You saved me, I whispered, lathering the pup in soap. The monster turned out to be a tiny, pregnant Spitz. The vet said it was purebred, likely missing its owner. No tags, no microchip. I snapped a photo, put up notices, searched every kennel and forum, but nothing turned up. The little dognow I called her Miraclebecame mine. I gave away all the puppies except one, which clung to its mother and to me. Life flickered with new colours, yet a threefold seal of misunderstanding and resentment lingered in my heart. I decided to rid myself of that weight.
I drafted official letters, forging notary signatures, and sent them to my exes, claiming my orphan status and bequeathing all I owned. Who wouldnt bite at an inheritance? I knew them too well. At the appointed hour they gathered in a rented office, waiting for a solicitor. I entered, locked the door behind me, and said, I wont let you leave until you explain why you abandoned me. I took the head of the table and began with Samuel.
Something sudden snapped; they started to speak, first Samuel, then the others, cutting each other off with nods. I sat in stunned silence as the absurd tableau unfolded and could only exhale, So you left me because?
You made it impossible to bear! Ian shouted, his voice cracking. Put yourself in my shoes! The truth emerged: each night I muttered a namean unfamiliar male name, a name I hadnt even known. Zachary, they said, as if Id been cheating in my sleep. I had never met anyone called Zachary. I didnt cheat on anyone! I protested.
Victor shrugged, I asked who Zachary was, and you just laughed. The scene was ridiculous: I was accused of infidelity by a phantom name. Ian laughed, I even hired a detective to catch her. He seemed amused, already comforting himself with two daughters hed fathered after fleeing me. Samuel backed Ian, Ill catch her too! He remained a bachelor, swapping women like hats.
Victor fidgeted, biting his lip, fists clenched, replaying the betrayal over and over. He was the first man Id loved, the one I thought would be forever.
Will you let us go? Any more questions? Ian asked, stretching his legs with a crack.
Off you go, I snarled, flinging my keys onto the desk. My strength drained, answers eluded me, only more questions and a bitter anger at my former lovers, who nearly destroyed me by their stupidity. What would I have done? Would I have fretted, suspected, or simply refused to go? I knew only one thing: it isnt a reason to abandon someone.
Miracle and her tiny pup tumbled onto the Christmas tree I had dragged in. New Year was a week away and the house was still undecorated. To hell with the exestime for a fresh start, though the bewilderment lingered. I wondered if, in my dream, I still called out to the unknown Zachary, perhaps to a hypnotist? A balloon slipped off a thorny branch.
Youll break everything, I told the pup, shielding the tree from its mischief. I lifted the decorated fir onto the table. At that precise moment the phone rang.
Leave it all! I sang, Ill call back later. I tripped over my slippers, almost fell, the line crackled, the pup tangled underfoot, trying to snatch another balloon. Chaos, laughter.
When the tree was safe I poured a measure of brandy to toast my new beginning. I, who never touched alcohol, kept the bottle for rare guests that never came. The warmth made me drowsy; the phone rang again.
Hello, I saw your ad. Sorry for the late call, but you didnt answer a voice asked.
Which ad? I mumbled, heart pounding.
Its about Kendra. Your little dog, Kendra. May I come by? Ive been looking everywhere. The words blurred as my heart hammered. I could not hand over Miracle. Suddenly a tiny bark snapped at my heel. What are you doing? Im staying with you!
The owner arrived an hour later, breathing frost and happiness. He fell to his knees, nose buried in the pups fur, muttering names like you little monster, thank you, thank you! Tears streamed down his face. Eight months I thought she was lost forever. I clutched Miracle tightly, refusing to let her go.
Give me the pup! I snapped, locking him in the bathroom where a plaintive whine echoed.
What pup? Did you make this up? the man asked, eyes narrowing. Of course, I replied, picturing the sum of my savings£150, enough for a modest future.
May I just look at her? he asked, embarrassed. Shes a girl, right? he added, stumbling over his words.
A burst of brandy escaped my mouth, Oh, dear I felt foolish, as if Id become an alcoholic.
Why not? he chuckled, slipping off his shoes. He led us to the kitchen, where I sliced lemon, laid out cheese, set glasses of brandy, apologising for my stress. He nodded politely, It happens. We drank in silence, then both reached for the same lemon wedge.
Im Zachary, he suddenly declared, introducing himself. The dream folded into another layer, absurd yet strangely fitting.
