𝐑 𝐎 𝐒 𝐈 𝐍 𝐀

     WE ENTER THE kitchen simultaneously, and I pack the leftovers for Evans. He’s standing by the sink, washing the plates under the running water. The scene reminds me of how lucky I am to have someone like him as a partner. He’s very experienced and above all supportive. He’s loosened his tie and folded the sleeves to his elbow, making him look funny with what he’s doing but attractive nonetheless. I don’t always see handsome men like him in the kitchen. All the men I’ve dated never assisted me in the kitchen. Not that it matters. I’m glad I broke up with all of them as they were never marriage material.

     I listen as chinawares cling loudly while he wipes them with a napkin and arranges them in the cabinet. Evans is the perfect man, and I’m sure he’s going to be the perfect husband.

     When he’s done, I near him and wrap my hands around his waist, resting my head on his back.

     “There’s something I want to ask you,” I say.

     He turns around and takes my hand. “I’m all ears.”

     A cold wind wafts into the kitchen. I look through the blinds and stare out at the idyllic neighborhood shrouded in the dark, the trees swaying rhythmically to the gentle wind.

     “Let’s sit on the porch. The weather is soothing,” I suggest.

     “All right.”

     We pace side by side to the porch and sit on the swing bed. I scoot over to him, placing my head on his shoulder.

     Three seconds elapse before I broach what I want to ask him. “Tell me about your past relationship.”

     I feel his slight tremble, as though he weren’t expecting this question. I’m sure I took him by surprise. We’ve been in a relationship for a while now, and I don’t know a thing about his past.

     He sits up and faces me. “What do you want to know?”

     I glance at him. “Everything.”

     “All right.” He sighs. “I was once in love with a woman. Her name is Isla. We started our little business here in Amarillo. We were in love. At some point, I thought I was going to marry her.”

     I stare at him, intrigued. I sense that something terrible happened to their relationship. Terrible enough to destroy him. “What happened?” I ask anxiously as though he isn’t going to finish his story.

     “She went to prison.”

     My eyes light up. “What did she do?”

     Another cold wind howls across the porch, carrying with it the scent of rain. It’s balmy. I inhale sharply.

     Evans takes my hand and pats it. “Long story, and I don’t want to talk about it.”

     He’s hiding something—something he doesn’t want me to know. I trust my husband-to-be. If he doesn’t want me to know, then it’s something I shouldn’t be concerned about. Now I’m curious as to what happened to Isla. Why was she arrested? Did she ever get out? And most importantly, is Evans still in love with her? I’ve got so many questions, and I know I can get answers one at a time.

     “Do you still love her?”

     I look into his gray eyes. Although his face is stony,  I can tell there’s something about Isla in those eyes, and it only means one thing. Isla is his first true love. It’s difficult to forget your true love. Even when you’re no longer together, you’re constantly reminded of them, the happy moments you shared with them, and the smile they put on your face.

     Should I be jealous that he still thinks about Isla? No. I will not. What for? Isla was once a part of his life but not anymore. Even if he still loves her, which is normal, I don’t think getting jealous will get rid of it.

     He gnaws his lips. I know this isn’t an easy question. I should probably drop it.

     “You know what?” I touch his face and his stubble brushes against my hand, sending a tingle down my spine. I direct his eyes to mine. “You don’t need to answer that. Did she ever get out?”

     “Yes. Recently.”

     My heart hammers at the reply. I wish I know why I’m anxious.

     “And she didn’t come looking for you?”

     “She did.”

     “What did she want?” I ask.

     He sighs. I can tell this conversation is disturbing to him, but it’s high time we had it, especially if we’re going to be a couple.

     “Some of the business shares are in her name. She’s still my business partner, and I had to see her.”

     A sullen silence falls for several seconds.

     “Should I be worried?” I mouth.

     “That?”

     “She might try to do something when she finds out about us.” I push closer. “I don’t know if she still has feelings for you, but you’re going to see her often because she’s your business partner. What if she doesn’t consent to our marriage?”

     My voice is husky. I can hear myself. I have this feeling my suspicions are true, and I wasn’t paranoid. Evans has an ex who’s out of prison. Worse, she’s his business partner and his first true love. I know I sound dramatic, but what if this Isla has been spying on me? Should I tell Evans about my suspicions? Maybe he’ll confront her and find out.

     What if I’m just being paranoid and Evans confronts her? I’ll embarrass myself and everyone will think I’m a dramatic wife-to-be.

     He cups my hand and strokes my hair. “We don’t need her consent. I’ve made it clear to her I’m in love with someone else, and we’re getting married.”

     Oh, dear! She already knows about us. Does she know where I live too?

     I peer at him. “You told her?”

     “I had to.”

     I gulp hard, pulling slightly away from him. The cold air permeates my skin. I hug myself. The hairs on my forelimb stand erect and goosebumps slowly appear. I can’t hide this from him. He needs to know.

     The words slip out of my mouth. “Someone’s been watching me.”

     He whips his head in my direction, his eyes penetrating mine. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

     I shrug frantically. “I don’t know. I thought I was imagining things until you...” My voice trails away. I can’t bring myself to say it.

     “Did you see who it was?”

     “No,” I say tersely. “It’s just a feeling.”

     “When did it start?”

     “A couple of weeks ago.”

     He falls silent suddenly, his face serious, as though he’s mulling over what I’ve said, or maybe he has someone who is a potential suspect in mind. The name rings in my head like someone is screaming it into my ear. Isla.

     After a while, he looks at me and smiles warmly. He doesn’t think this is serious, or perhaps he’s hiding something.

     “Everything is going to be all right. I promise you.”

     His words are reassuring, but I know everything isn’t all right. I’ve got a very bad feeling something is about to happen, and this Isla is somehow involved. Evans has an ex somewhere who recently got out of prison, and I know someone has been watching me. Meeting Evans at the wedding reception was a dream including our romance and wedding. Reality is kicking in, and it’s not good. I have to prepare for what’s about to come, but I don’t know how.