Married To An Assassin

I'm walking to my boyfriend's apartment with his favourite meal singing off tune. Just thinking about him makes me smile. I'm really looking forward to spending time with him. I haven't seen him in a month. I was a little hurt that he didn't bother to check up on me. But then again I was being selfish. He was super busy with exams. I know how important those exams were to him so I didn't want to disturb him or get in his way. So I stayed away. But his last paper was 2 days ago. I wanted to give him space to rest. I bet he didn't get enough rest while preparing for the exams. I'm about to knock when the door opens and 2 men carrying a couch walk out. I try to talk to them asking where they are taking the couch. I bought the couch when my boyfriend Themba moved in here 2 years ago. I start reminiscing about the good old days and fantasizing about more good days ahead. Minutes later while I'm standing there smiling like an i***t, I remember the guys didn't answer me. I walk into the apartment, it's empty. I walk to the bedroom and there's nothing there. I walk to the bathroom and all of his personal belongings are gone. He only left the few things I used when I came over. I feel sick. A lot of questions cross my mind. What if something terrible happened to him? Something terrible like an accident. Or worse, what if he's dead. I keep going around in circles thinking of possible scenarios. While I was in a hurry to get here and surprise my boyfriend I forgot my phone on my night stand at home. I take the steps up to the landlady's apartment. She looks shocked to see me here. "What are you doing here? Aren't you preparing for your wedding?" She asks me while opening the door inviting me inside. I always like coming here. She has the coolest apartment and I like the view more. "What wedding?" I ask her when I'm sitting on the couch in her sitting room. "Your boyfriend said you are getting married this weekend when he handed in his notice a month ago." She tells me joining me on the couch. "You must have mistaken me for someone else." I reply laughing nervously. "Are you not Themba's girlfriend? Themba from 201?" She asks me again. I don't answer her, and then she realises her mistake. I'm not the girl Themba is marrying tomorrow. I'm out of the apartment before she can say anything more. I went back to Themba's apartment one more time. Maybe I went to the wrong apartment. Unfortunately not. I don't know what to think or feel. I never thought I'd experience something so painful. I always read about these kinds of stories on f*******: and I always laughed and told my brothers that I don't believe these stories. Who's laughing now? I always prided myself in being a strong person. I can face and overcome anything that comes my way without shedding a tear. Even when it's clear Themba left without a text, I still think there's some kind of a mistake. Maybe it's a prank. I wipe the tears and I walk all over the apartment looking for hidden cameras. When I don't find one I throw myself on the floor and I scream my lungs out. I must have sat here longer because someone lifted me from the floor. It's Afrika, my 18-year-old brother. He looks like he's about to cry too. He's such a softie. He hugs me while I wail like someone died. Or something in me died. I thought we were happy. That thought makes me wail even more. One of Themba's friends and neighbour comes through the door and he tells us to leave. He sounds so cold, I can't believe he's the same guy who used to call me Themba's wife while I suspect he knew what Themba was doing behind my back. Afrika begs me to stop crying and he leads me out of the house. "Who died?" My mom asks when Afrika and I walk in. I see him shaking his head subtly. My mom turns back to watching her favourite talk show. I hate talk shows. Afrika leads me to my room. He asks if I'll be okay. I nod and he closes the door behind me. I take my phone from the night stand. I check my call log, w******p, messaging app and emails. There's nothing. No missed calls, no new w******p messages, no new text messages and no new emails. Network must be terrible. I restart my phone and I walk to the bathroom to wash my face. My eyes are puffy and my nose is red. No wonder my mom thought someone died. I'm glad we requested a ride home. I'd never forgive Afrika if he had let me take a taxi home looking like this. One look at my face and people would know what happened. I go back to my room. There's nothing there. It becomes more clear. He left without saying a word. I try calling him but he doesn't pick up. I send him messages asking if it's true that he's getting married, reminding him of the good times we had and asking him to contact me. Hours later he hasn't called back or replied to my thousand sms's. I decided to text him one last question. Who is the other girl? Maybe I'm hurting myself but I need to know. I deserve to know