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I Hate That I Love You, Mr Anderson.

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Imagine finding out your current lover is your deceased fiancee's murderer, what will you do?

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Birthday Turned Funeral.
Today was a special day. It was my boyfriend's, Nike's, birthday, and I couldn't wait to surprise him with a celebration at my apartment. Together with my best friend, Monique, we had spent hours meticulously planning every detail, from the decorations to the cake. It was going to be perfect. I let out a sigh of relief as I put the final touches on the decorations, my excitement grew. I couldn't wait to see the look on his face when he walked through the door. “Someone's feeling excited” Monique said in a singsong tone, and I giggled. “Yeah. I'm excited and kinda nervous at the same time, you know this is my first-ever surprise party for him” She threw an encouraging arm around my shoulders and pulled me into a side hug. “He's definitely gonna love the surprise” she said. “Are you sure?” my eyes darted around as if I'm looking for something or anything that's missing. “Do you think I did good with the decorations and everything?” “Of course" she reached for my apron's pocket and pulled out my phone. “How about you give him a call and invite him over, then we'll confirm if he loves your surprise” She is right, I wouldn't know how Nike feels if I didn't invite him over. I gave her a cheek kiss, and excused myself to give Nike a call, and invite him over. “What the hell, Nike, pick up” I grumbled disappointed when he didn't pick up his phone after the first few rings. I redialed his number again, but to my dismay, there still was no answer. I tried again, and again, but still no response. Growing worried, I paced back and forth in our small, cozy living room. I couldn't understand why he wasn't picking up. I couldn't help the uneasy feeling that suddenly began growing in my mind. I mean, Nike never misses my calls. “Are you okay?” Monique asked, she must have noticed my worried expression. “I'm fine, it's just that Nike's not picking up his phone” I replied. She laughed as though I just said something funny. “That shouldn't call for worries, he might be taking his bath and couldn't bring his phone with him to the bathroom” she said. Hm, I guess she's right. Maybe he had forgotten his phone somewhere or had it on silent mode. I shoved my phone in my back pocket and continued working, deciding to give him another call later. But even though I was trying not to get worried, I still couldn't shake off the feeling that something was wrong. I needed to see him, to make sure he was okay. Without wasting any more time, I made up my mind to go over to his place and invite him personally. I grabbed my keys and rushed out the door, my heart pounding in my chest. “Where are you rushing off to?” Monique asked when she saw me rushing out. “I'm going to Nike's” was my replied before I dashed out completely. ***** The drive to Nike's apartment felt like an eternity, my mind filled with a mix of anticipation and fear. When I arrived, I quickly made my way up to his apartment. I knocked on the door, but there was no answer. I honestly don't understand why, but an unknown panic and fear started to set in as I fumbled for my spare key. Unlocking the door, I stepped inside, calling out his name. The silence that followed was deafening, which is strange because Nike doesn't like being in a quiet environment. He loves listening to music all the time. Running around frantically, searching his kitchen and bathroom since I didn't see him anywhere in the living room, but he wasn't he in any of those places either. Realizing I hadn't checked his room, I rushed there without wasting time. And then, I saw him. But what I saw wasn't what I was expecting, in fact, I wouldn't dream of such a scene in a million years. My world shattered into a million pieces as I found him lying in a large pool of blood. His once vibrant face was now pale, his eyes closed forever. A deep stab mark marred his chest, and a gaping cut adorned his forehead. Next to his lifeless body lay a knife, its blade stained crimson. “Nike!” I cried out, rushing to his side, my hands trembling. I cradled his lifeless body, tears streaming down my face. “Why? Who did this to you?” I questioned, my voice filled with anguish, even though deep down, I knew there would be no response. I couldn't comprehend the brutality of this act. My mind raced with questions, searching for answers that seemed impossible to find. Who could have done this to him? Why would anyone want to hurt him? The room started to spin, and I felt a wave of nausea wash over me. No, no, no. This can't be happening. This can't be true. This isn't reality, I'm sure this is a nightmare! “Please, wake up, Nike” I pleaded with him even though I knew he wouldn't open his eyes. “Just open your eyes!” I screamed. I couldn't move or feel my muscles, I just sat there and cried out my eyes, shouting at him to open his eyes, and commanding his lifeless body to get up and start moving. As the reality of the situation sank in, I knew I had to call the police. I reached for my phone, my hands shaking uncontrollably. With each number I dialed, my voice cracked as I struggled to explain the horrifying scene before me. The dispatcher politely assured me that help was on the way, but it felt like an eternity until they arrived.

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