Secret Meetings

Her past comes back to haunt her

The blue sky shone like a glistening sapphire on that brisk February morning. The sun peaked its way through the ruffled curtains, heating up my skin. I kicked the blanket off my legs and rolled onto my stomach, giving in to the stretch I felt coming. It felt good to sleep in. I didn't feel the weight of my husband on the bed so I stretched my arm out. No, he wasn’t there. When I opened my eyes I saw a card on his pillow. I opened it.
Good morning my sweet Abigail. Breakfast will be in the garden this morning. I can't wait to see your smiling face. Shawn.
“Oh, I love you so much.” I whispered into the air. I sat up in bed, stretched again and opened the window by our bed. As promised, my husband had gathered all the usual breakfast accessories and placed them on the glass table in the garden, which he had moved into the sun and closer to the fire pit. I could see the low flames flickering in the pit. He must have heard the window open because

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I heard him laugh and say good morning. As I waved to him, he smiled and told me breakfast was almost ready and that I should come down and have some coffee.
As I descended the stairs of our small town home, I could smell the wonderful smells of Sunday. Bacon was the first thing that hit my nose, followed by chocolate chip pancakes, and maple syrup. At last, I smelled the freshly ground coffee coming from the garden through the screen door. My husband met me at the door, opened it and planted a firm kiss on my lips. I threw my arms up around his shoulders and kissed him back.
"I love you, Shawn." I whispered, now to listening ears.
"I love you too." He replied.
"Thank you for making breakfast." I said widely smiling at him.
"I know my girl is always hungry as soon as she wakes up." He chuckled. "Now go sit down. Relax while I get the food."
He gently pushed me toward the table. The mid-morning, brisk air was the perfect contrast to the heat of the fire. I leaned back

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on the icy steel of the chair and sipped the perfectly made, black coffee. The aroma filled my nose as I drank. I could see Shawn gathering plates in his arms inside the house. They wobbled on his arms while he tried to stack them like a waiter. I giggled a little at the scene.
"Do you need help in there?" I hollered loud enough for him to hear me.
"No way!" He yelled back. "This is your only day off this week. I don't want you to lift a finger."
I was glad that I was relieved of my household duties for the day. It was incredible how well he took care of me. This month was a busy one. We were doing lots of closings on homes, and as the head realtor, I had to be at every one of them.
I continued to sip my coffee and stare at the fire for a moment, when I heard a clamor in the kitchen. I looked through the screen door once again to see what Shawn had dropped. I could imagine grease and syrup everywhere. Shaking my head,

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I asked him again if he needed help. No answer this time.
"Are you okay?" I asked. "Did you want to go out instead? Or should we eat off the floor? It should be clean enough since I mopped last night." I said playfully. Still no answer.
I sighed again, got up from my chair and walked toward the door. As I approached, I saw plates on the floor, but no Shawn. I thought he may have gone to get cleaning supplies from the hall closet. I called his name again. Silence. I felt a flicker of fear in my chest. Something was off. He usually answered me. Why wasn't he answering me now?
As I walked around the corner to the dining room I saw him sitting in a chair with panic in his eyes. My heart stopped. There was a man on either side of him, one with his hand over my husbands mouth. They were both in suits and had Shawn restrained to the chair with zip-ties. They couldn't be cops or detectives? They knock.
Before I could ask them what was going on, the one on the left spoke.
"Hello, Abigail." My heart sank with his icy tone. "We would once again like to make a proposal. And this time, 'no' is not an option."

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Genres:

Drama

Mystery

Romance

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