After His Ex-Girlfriend Came Back

After work, Hugh took me to our favorite restaurant.

In truth, the food and decor of this particular restaurant were nothing special. Based on our current circumstances, it would have been well within our means to go somewhere better.

However, this was the place where we'd first met.

Three years ago, I had first seen Hugh sitting alone at the counter, crying despondently over a single serving of the food.

At the time, I'd handed him some paper napkins to dry his eyes and he'd thanked me for them.

I felt sorry for him—a grown man sitting there sobbing like a child—so I struck up a conversation.

He said he was the boss of a clothing company that had seen a huge drop-off in sales. All his money was tied up in the business and now he was left with nothing.

At the time, I had just received a prestigious award for my own clothing designs and was in between jobs, with offers coming at me from left and right.

Something about his plight really moved me. Despite all the other offers, I chose to join his failing firm instead.

I helped him draw up an annual plan and worked around the clock to design an entire season's worth of clothing. I even went so far as to use my own savings to pay off his debts.

My designs were a roaring success and that first year of sales revitalized the company.

From there, the business went from strength to strength, and our food went from single servings to couple's ones.

We pulled ourselves up together, through the good times and the bad.

I smiled at him warmly, this man that I loved.

This man I was waiting for ...

We'd arranged to come to this restaurant two weeks ago, having to put off many things in our busy lives to do so.

When we'd left the house this morning, I'd seen him loading a huge box into the trunk of the car.

I was certain he meant to propose to me, on our fifth anniversary together.

I was lost in my happiness when his phone suddenly beeped.

He looked at it and then stood up, looking a little flustered. "I have to go."

I could tell that he wasn't joking, whatever it was had made him genuinely worried.

"What's wrong?" I asked, a hint of panic creeping into my own voice.

"I'm sorry, Reina, something's happened at the factory. I need to go there right away."

"How about I come with you?"

"There's no need. It won't take long and then I'll be right back."

The food we'd ordered sat on the table, completely untouched. I ate my fill and then went to pay the bill.

We came to this restaurant so often that we had a special charge card just for this place.

"Please enter your PIN," said the cashier.

0 6 0 6

As I punched in the code, a sudden sense of doubt surfaced in my mind.

These four digits appeared in every one of Hugh's passcodes.

When we bought our first car, he even chose 0606 for our personalized license plate. He chose it over the date of our anniversary.

He said he'd been given this number by a fortune teller, who claimed it was his "lucky date". Because of my love for him, I'd never questioned him about it.

But something had triggered my suspicion ...

I took out my phone and rifled through the onboarding materials that Jimmy had sent me. Eventually, I found what I was looking for: Cecilia's personal information.

With a growing sense of dread, I scrolled down to the line that said "Date of birth", and sure enough, there it was:

06.06

I pushed my way through the restaurant door and onto the street outside. There was a cold wind blowing and it cut through me like a knife. I walked numbly along the road as my very soul seemed to shiver.