Before leaving Houston, I gifted Mr. and Mrs. Summers two round trip tickets to Chicago. One for our engagement party and the other for our wedding. Santana had been set to begin her new job at the Chicago Chronicle, but due to our upcoming nuptials, Mrs. Hathaway had set her start date further back. Mrs. Hathaway had also apologized profusely about getting into my business—as I knew she would. I told her it was okay as long as she didn’t do that again.

Mrs. Hathaway made no promises, which let me know she would most likely dip her nose into our business once more. Santana was okay with it now that she knew Mrs. Hathaway’s reasons. But I was still not accepting Mrs. Hathaway’s lack of response.

Another week went by before the engagement party. At the dinner, I could sense a sudden shift in Santana’s mood. It was interesting that whenever she felt tired, happy or troubled, I could feel the emotions drifting from her. This happened even if I were in another room. My mood would change, and I’d go looking for her only to find Santana alone on the front porch with her face to the wind or hiding out in the bathroom, pretending she was just freshening up. With each time I witnessed this part of her, I knew she was conflicted. And I understood why. Santana wasn’t alone. Although we both kept up this façade, it seemed we both felt the same but neither one of us spoke on it as the days continued to pass.

There were few nights that we spent without each other, at our respective homes. One of those times came the night before our supposed wedding. I’d gone over this whole ordeal in my head and wondered what the hell I was thinking. Was taking over my father’s company so important that I was risking Santana regretting what we were about to do? Would I regret it? I pulled myself to a sitting position and tossed my legs over the bed. Quickly, I stood and drug on a pair of jeans, forgetting my shirt to grab my keys and head out the front door. I drove across town with my mind abuzz, cursing myself for letting things get this far. The skies had been cloudy all day, and finally, it began to shower. It started slow, and then the heavy welts of droplets splashed against my car like a massive storm was on its way.

When I pulled in front of Santana’s house, all lights were off, and her car was gone. Still, I got out and ran through the rain to her door. I knocked with a fist, banging against the wooden frame, hoping she was inside to no avail. All was quiet, and it became more apparent that Santana wasn’t inside. I turned around and walked to the sidewalk, casting my eyes down the street. Where would she be at this hour and why? I worried that I’d ran her off and I’d never see her again. The thought twisted my gut and made me short of breath. My legs moved, and I was driving down the street desperately searching for her.

“Come on, baby, where are you?”

I cruised around corner after corner before coming to a local bar that sat on the edge of the street. I almost passed it when my periphery caught the image of her car. I hit the brakes, quickly pulling my car to rest beside hers. My heart hammered in my chest as I thought with relief that I’d found her. But as I made my way inside, I saw no sign of Santana—only a sprinkling of patrons. The tightness in my chest was back, but I composed my thoughts long enough to think straight.

Walking up to the bar, I spoke to the bartender,

“Excuse me. Have you seen a woman come in here about five-seven, brown skin, shoulder length hair, beautiful dark eyes?”

The bartender smirked. “Beautiful dark eyes, eh?” He looked around the place. “Well, she was sitting right there next to that stool you’re standing by. She’s only been gone about five minutes.”

I turned around and left the bar so quick that my movements turned into a sprint. I was desperate to get to her. Needing with no doubt to find her safe and make sure she never felt used again. Outside, I ran to the end of the sidewalk, and my heart leaped when I found her standing there walking in my direction. I crossed the street just as she looked up, and her eyes enlarged at my appearance.

“Josiah,” she said, surprised. “What are you doing here?”

Her eyes never left mine as I grabbed her hands and pulled her close.

“Don’t leave me,” I said.

She stared back at me, and I was lost in her.

“Don’t leave,” I repeated. “I know you have doubts. But I need you to stay, Santana.” We stood there under the downpour of the heavy rain accessing one another. The cyclone of wind pulled her closer, and I closed my mouth around hers in a kiss that was so charged I knew any moment we’d be struck by lightning. My arms cocooned her, and she responded, sliding her arms around my neck. My tongue traveled down her throat, and my heart beat rigorously in my chest. I was in love with her, and I never wanted to spend another second without Santana. It shouldn’t have taken me this long but I knew what had to be done, and I’d promised myself I would set things right, starting, now.