From the Archives

An unfinished love story.

I cringed; I laughed out loud at what I read. It was 2007 when I began writing an unfinished love story in the making. The male lead remained nameless, and a runaway fiancé knew not where she was headed. But, as writers, we’re often driven to capture those initial, unformed thoughts onto a page. We write, after all, to catch fleeting thoughts as they come, and as I think about how I would re-write this story these many years later, those first sparks are what truly captivate.

I share this story raw and unedited from my archives.
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It is 7am on a Saturday morning. Tess stands patiently in line for a well-needed cup of coffee. Anxious and almost nervous, she knew that today will be a very challenging one in which she had to make a very serious decision. She bought a large coffee, black, and with the morning paper in one hand, chose a seat in a quiet area of the coffee shop. For a moment, she sat staring at nothing in particular, except for the flow of dancing leaves in the autumn breeze. This is always Tess’ favourite time of year - beautiful hues of golden orange and yellow everywhere and the air crisp and clean. The calm before the storms of winter. Tess’ mind was a maze, plagued with ideas and decisions. What was the point where things went wrong, she thought? “What am I afraid of?” Tess tried with great difficulty to focus and read an article on Decorating Tips or maybe it was Choosing the Right Home. In any event, she was unable to focus. The events of last night were still fresh in her mind and she hardly got any sleep.

The proposal had been perfect. A moonlit terrace overlooking the glittering skyline of New York City, a diamond that could blind a lesser woman, and a man, (nameless), who seemed to embody everything she thought she wanted. Yet, as the champagne cork popped, a cold dread settled in Tess’ stomach. She loved (nameless), she truly did. But the thought of forever, of settling down, of becoming Mrs. (nameless), felt like a gilded cage. She was twenty-eight, an heiress to a fortune built on tech innovations, and she felt suffocated by the expectations that came with her family name.

Her internal conflict had been brewing for months. (nameless), with his charm and ambition, seemed to fit the mold perfectly to her family’s expectations. But was he her perfect? Was this love, or a well-orchestrated arrangement? The fear of making the wrong choice, of missing out on something more, gnawed at her.

The engagement party was a blur of forced smiles and well-wishes. Tess felt like an actress playing a role she wasn't sure she wanted. That night, she couldn't sleep. The weight of her decision pressed down on her. She knew what she had to do.

She wrote the note. “(nameless), I can't. I need to find myself, to see the world, to understand what I truly want. I'm so sorry." She left it on the kitchen counter, packed a single suitcase, and slipped out the back door. The cold rain, a relentless downpour, mirrored the turmoil in her heart.

She hailed a cab, her destination: JFK Airport. She had a one-way ticket to (destination undecided).

(nameless). He stood there, soaked to the bone, his face a mask of anguish. The rain streamed down his face, mingling with his tears. "Why?" he choked out.

As she reached the airport, she heard a familiar voice. "Tess!"

"Then go," he said, his voice raw. "But know this: I'll be waiting."

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Phew! Thanks for making it this far! How would you add to this story? Better yet, what name would you give to the male lead, and where in the world is Tess going? Your thoughts and reflections are warmly welcomed in the comments below.

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