UNTIL LOVE FOUND US

DANTE

The night was shrouded in a gentle drizzle, the kind of rain that softened the city lights and cast a veil of distance around everything. I sat in my car, watching as the droplets raced down the pavement, feeling the rhythm of my fingers tapping anxiously against the steering wheel. The phone call had been brief but urgent wanted to meet. Melissa, the woman I had adored for the past two years, was the one who had captured my heart so completely. I had stood by her side through every high and low, supporting her dreams and encouraging her business. In return, she had promised me her heart. She meant everything to me, yet there was always an unspoken barrier between us. Every time I brought up the idea of us taking the next step, she would respond with the same words: "Just a little longer, Dante. I'm not ready yet." After two long years of waiting and hoping, my heart was heavy with uncertainty. Tonight, though, something felt different. Perhaps it was the rain or the urgency woven into her voice during the call. It felt as if she was holding something back, and I couldn't shake off that feeling. Yet, I believed in her, in us, and I was prepared to face anything for her well-being. As I pulled into the café we often hung out, the dampness of the night air enveloped me the moment I stepped out of the car. Inside, the café was mostly empty, save for a few late-night workers. There was Melissa, her figure illuminated by the soft, warm light inside. She wore a sleek black coat, her hair cascading softly around her face, damp from the rain, and despite everything, she looked truly beautiful. "Dante," she said, her voice gentle and almost apologetic. "Thanks for coming." "Of course," I replied, trying to muster a reassuring smile. "I'd never leave you waiting." While she returned a faint smile, I noticed a flicker of something in her eyes emotion I couldn't quite place. She seemed lost in thought, her gaze flitting between me and the street behind me as if anticipating something. "Can we talk?" she asked, her tone shifting to a more serious note. I nodded, and we found a small corner table, away from the lingering customers. The rain continued its rhythm against the windows, but inside, a strange chill filled the air. She shifted in her seat, avoiding my gaze, and an unsettling thought crossed my mind. Something told me she had news for me-but I brushed it aside, believing I knew her well enough. "I need that 20 million," she finally said, breaking the silence. Confusion washed over me. "What do you mean?" "You promised me," she insisted, her voice soft yet firm. "For my business. I need it now." A weight settled in the pit of my stomach. I had made that promise, of course, and I wanted nothing more than to support her in pursuing her dreams. I thought of all the ways I'd stood by her, hoping that one day that support would lead us to a future together. Perhaps that was why I had been willing to wait so patiently for her to be ready for marriage. "I'll give it to you right away," I said, reaching for my phone without a moment's hesitation. The transfer would be a tangible way to prove my support again. Her faint smile returned, the one that made my heart swell, though a nagging feeling in my chest lingered. I sent the transfer with a simple click, and the confirmation sound echoed in the quiet space between us. "Thank you," she said, her eyes shining with what I hoped was genuine appreciation. "This means a lot to me." I watched her, searching for an opening to steer the conversation back to the dreams I had for our future, the marriage we had danced around for so long. But the moments slipped away, and before I knew it, Melissa stood up, as if our conversation had been concluded. "I'm leaving tomorrow morning," she stated steadily, her words almost rehearsed. "You know how it is, business." "Right," I replied, a tightness forming in my chest. Each word felt more like a wall between us. Another trip-another way to evade the questions lingering in my heart. "I'll be back in a few days," she added quickly, her expression shifting into something harder to read. "But I promise, we'll talk more when I return." "I'll be waiting," I assured her, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. "You know I always am." She smiled again, this time with more sincerity, leaning down to kiss my cheek before preparing to leave. But as she turned away, an unexpected wave of unease washed over me. My phone buzzed in my pocket, lighting up with a new notification. The transfer I had just made to Melissa, the twenty million, had been reversed. Confusion set in as I pulled out my phone, a growing sense of dread blooming within me. Before I could process the reversal, another message appeared familiar name: Dave. Dave, my best friend, the person I trusted above all else. The message contained a series of files-photos and videos. I hesitated, unease settling deeper in my gut. As I opened the first video, my heart lurched, the world around me fading as the reality of the situation began to unfold. When I opened the first video, I felt a rush of emotions that momentarily took my breath away. It was a recording of Melissa, laughing and leaning comfortably on the shoulder of a man I didn't recognize. They were sitting on a couch, so close that it felt intimate-more intimate than I had ever thought possible for someone who had supposedly been dating me for two years. The second video added a layer of confusion and heartache. This time, the man addressed Melissa directly. "You need to go get the 20 million," he said, his tone calm and collected, almost dismissive. "Once you have it, we can leave. Get the money and tell him it's over, give him cooked reasons why you can't be in his life anymore. We'll leave the city, and we can finally be free." My heart sank. I could barely hear Melissa's response, but it was clear: "Don't worry. He'll give it to me. He always does. He doesn't ask questions." Then came the photos one deeper in betrayal. The same man with Melissa at what appeared to be a private ceremony wedding. The reality hit me like a cold wave: she had been married for four years. I struggled to grasp the weight of what I was seeing. My trust, my affection for her, felt like sand slipping through my fingers. How could someone I loved so deeply have built a life alongside me while secretly intertwining herself with another? The most painful part was clinging to hope that this was all a misunderstanding, a cruel trick of fate. But the evidence was undeniable, staring back at me in vivid detail. I closed my eyes, taking a moment to collect myself. The conflicting emotions swirled inside me, battling for dominance. Rage settled beneath the surface, but it was mixed with hurt and disbelief. I stood there, feeling time freeze, while the chaotic storm inside me raged on. The urge to scream or to lash out was overwhelming, yet I felt paralyzed, transfixed by the unfolding reality. My hands clenched into fists, the desire to throw my phone against the wall battling with the need to understand. Questions flooded my mind. How long had she been living a lie? How could she do this to me? The warmth of love quickly turned to the chill of betrayal as I processed everything I thought I knew about us. Then, just as my thoughts began to spiral, I heard footsteps. I looked up to see Melissa standing nearby, her expression a mix of confusion and guilt. But there was a depth in her eyes that made me feel uneasy. "The money you transferred... it's no longer in my account," she said softly, her voice trembling. I remained silent, the weight of my emotions rendering me speechless. "It was reversed back," she continued her words echoing with an emptiness that felt heavy in the air. "The transfer has been canceled. It came back to you." At that moment, something within me shifted. This wasn't just about the money anymore. It was about the trust that had been shattered, the dreams I thought we were building together. I let out a laugh, filled with bitterness and pain, a sound that felt foreign to me. I stepped closer, my body tense with a whirlwind of emotion. "The money is reversed, Melissa," I said, a sense of sorrow creeping into my voice. "I gave you everything. And this is how you repay me?" Her flinch struck me like a knife, but I needed her to understand the depth of my hurt. "Why did this happen?" I implored, my voice rising. "Why did you lie to me? You told me you loved me. I believed in us." She opened her mouth to respond, but I pressed on. "You never loved me, did you? It feels like I was just a means to an end for you." Each word felt heavy, reinforcing the sadness that filled the space between us. I wanted to know, needed to know how we had ended up here, feeling washed away by the currents of deception. "Your husband..." I started, emotions spilling out, ... and I couldn't help but wonder how we had strayed so far from what I thought was love. I continued, my voice trembling with hurt. "He's just like you, isn't he? Taking advantage of people, pretending to love them for their money. The two of you seem so similar. It feels like you've both been feeding off the kindness of others, masking your true intentions. You've gotten close to me, but all along, it feels like I was just a means to an ends meet" Melissa stood there, quiet, but I could sense a shift in her demeanor. It wasn't the expression of someone apologetic or remorseful. No, it felt colder, more detached. "You're right about one thing," she finally said, her voice barely a whisper, yet her words cut deep. "I never regretted it, Not once I'm not sorry for what I did." Her words twisted my insides, How could she express that confidence? After everything we had shared, everything I had invested in our relationship, she wasn't even remorseful. It felt unsettling. "I genuinely thought you were different," I whispered, my voice heavy with pain. "I thought you were someone I could trust. But now it seems you're just like everyone self-serving, wanting to take from those who care, and only using emotions to achieve your goals. It appears you're more focused on power, status, and money than on love or loyalty. You'll use anyone to get ahead." Melissa's gaze met mine, revealing a chilling resolve. "You don't understand, Dante. Do you think I'm the problem? That I deserve the blame? No. You've been too kind, too trusting. The wealthy often operate this way; they take without considering others. I'm not different from them; I'm just playing the same game. You were another piece on the board, Dante. Just like everyone else." Her words lingered between us, heavy with a painful truth. At that moment, I began to see the woman I had loved for two years through a different lens. She wasn't the sweet, caring girlfriend I had envisioned. Instead, she appeared as just another player in a game I didn't even realize I was part of. I took a step back, shaking my head in disbelief. "So, this was all just a game to you? I was never more than a way to get what you wanted. And now that you've taken what you need, it's over?" She didn't respond. The silence at that moment was deafening, speaking volumes more than words could express. I could see the truth in her eyes; she had no remorse for any of it. I turned away and hurried back to my car, driving off with a heart heavy from betrayal and sadness, feeling utterly lost in the aftermath of it all.