You return home to discover a huge flower bouquet waiting for you, no card attached. Who is it from — and why did they send it to you?
When I saw the flowers, I knew.
There was no card attached, though I would have known what it would say had there been one. A card had always been unnecessary.
I took a moment to compose myself, having no time to lay waste to undeserved tears. He would be disappointed if I were to break down now. Not when I’m so close to having end what I started so long ago.
I shrugged into my raincoat, took my bag, and left our apartment. I did not lock the door; I did not find it necessary. One way or the other, I would not be returning.
The streets were transformed into a kaleidoscope of lights and colours as I sped along the highway at high speed. The rain broke against my front window and the wipers were working double time in order to clear my sight. Regardless of the swirling light still shining in some of the windows, the surrounding buildings looked bleak and forlorn as the curtain of rain slowly drew to a close.
Strange people, ignorant people sitting at their desks, unbeknownst to them that outside their refuge, all hell is breaking loose.
I swerved left along an off-ramp, clipped another car, ignored its incessant honking, and sped towards the last building on the street.
I climbed out of my car, looking at the shunning lights that almost failed to spill across the gravel. The rain was hammering against my raincoat, and the sound was deafening.
I sensed guns on me. They knew I would come. The end is near.
From the bag slung over my shoulder, I retrieved a hand grenade. It felt good. The cool steel burned inside my hand what my cold heart could not. Warm tears ran down my cheeks, but relented to the rain.
As I drew the pin and started running towards the building, my thoughts went back to the first time I met him.
He had never been a part of the plan.