A game of Destiny

Emma turned on the coffee maker at the usual time, fifteen minutes before six, while she took a shower and got ready. She would have her first cup of the day before leaving for work. Emma was a risk analyst at a major international company with its headquarters in Germany. She was the best at her job and had been the top-performing employee for over a year. She was relentless, strict, obsessed with cleanliness and order, a perfectionist, and… an exceptional woman. Everyone who knew her admired her, but not everyone.

"Where is my tie?!" Jamie, her fiancé, shouted. He stormed out of the room in his underwear and banged on the bathroom door. Emma, under the water, was focused on massaging her scalp, as she always did for a minute in the mornings. "Are you still fussing with your hair? I'm going to be late, woman," he continued pounding on the door, irritated. Emma opened her eyes and clenched her jaw, turning her gaze towards the door, visible through the water and steam-dampened glass. "Emma?" he shouted again. She had wondered time and time again why she was engaged to a man who was the complete opposite of her. At the beginning, he had been kind, adored her, gave her space, and respected everything she did. But since they got engaged, he had changed. He started criticizing her, becoming more impatient, and breaking the rules she had in her own elegant apartment that they were sharing with Jamie. "Emma!" he was about to pound on the door when she opened it, completely naked and wet, but furious.

"Can't you find your own tie?" he tried to control his annoyance.

"I can't find it. I thought you had moved it."

"I don't touch your things just like you don't touch mine, darling," she replied with contained sarcasm. "Do you remember where you last put it?" He pressed his lips into a thin line.

"On the hanger behind the closet door," he muttered through gritted teeth.

"Then go find it. If you left it there, it should be there. And let me finish my shower!" she exclaimed, irritated. He nodded and went back to look for the tie. Emma quickly resumed what she had to do to leave on time. Jamie entered the closet, checked behind the door, and tried not to smile. There it was, hanging.

At six-fifteen, Emma was already getting into her van to head to work. Jamie got in the passenger seat and fastened his seatbelt.

"My mother wants to know if she can invite ten more people," Jamie said, typing on his phone. Emma stopped the car when she heard that. He turned to look at her, surprised. "What happened?" Emma's hands tightened on the leather steering wheel.

"Ten more people? And what about the thirty she invited four days ago? We agreed that the wedding would be simple, with people close to us."

"Darling, they're family friends."

"This wedding is for us, we're not inviting all of New York. There's a certain number of plates for the guests, and I can't buy more food plates. I already bought thirty four days ago."

"You have money, what's the issue?" Hearing that made Emma not say anything more, but everything started turning red. "So? Ten more people? I'll tell her yes," Jamie returned to his phone and typed, while she tried to control her annoyance. She returned her gaze to the road and kept driving. On the way, she went over everything about the wedding: she had paid for EVERYTHING. The entire reception and... the honeymoon. And remembering that she still had the umbilical cord attached to her

 mother made her doubt if this was what she truly wanted for the rest of her life.

****They had arrived at the company where they both worked. Jamie was the head of personnel, and she was a financial risk analyst, the best in the company.

"Do we eat together at the usual time?" he asked before each of them entered their respective elevators that would take them to their floors. For the first time since they had been together, Emma shook her head.

"I have a meeting. Have lunch without me," she said. He raised an eyebrow, and she didn't wait any longer, entered the elevator, and started doing breathing exercises. "Do we eat together at the usual time?" she said aloud in an ironic tone. Upon reaching her area, she went through her daily routine: stowed away her personal belongings, turned on her computer, grabbed her second cup of coffee, and started working.

"Emma?" her direct supervisor called. She looked up from the screen to see her.

"Yes?" Mrs. Byrne looked at her with a smile.

"Can you come with me for a moment? We need to discuss the days you requested off for the wedding and honeymoon." Emma nodded, got up from her chair, locked her screen with a password, and followed Mrs. Byrne into her office. She offered her a seat, and Emma sat down, waiting for her boss to say something. "Well, Emma, with the new merger with the Müller company, we'll have more work, and..." she paused, "There will be quite a workload once you return from your honeymoon."

"I know, Mrs. Byrne," Emma said.

"Do you think you'll be able to maintain the same pace after you get married?" Emma nodded, but for the second time, she hesitated.

"Of course, you don't have to worry about that.”

"I hope so. You're the best risk analyst we have. Your analyses and quantification of risks with banks and other financial institutions have made us the best in the country.”

“Thank you…” Emma smiled.

“By the way, do you have everything ready for the wedding? It's in two days.” Emma nodded. “How about starting your vacation from today?” she offered. Emma raised her eyebrows in surprise.

"Today?" Emma asked.

—Yes, you have your schedule free. Those two days are on me, go to the spa, the sauna, relax before the weekend comes. What do you say? —Emma nodded.

—Can I leave after lunch? I want to clean up my office.

—Sure, of course. Then I'll see you at your wedding. —Mrs. Byrne winked at her, and she smiled.

—Thanks again…—She left her boss's office, and her mind was already planning the rest of the afternoon. That was Emma, always active. She entered the office and did what she wanted to do before leaving for her two-week vacation. She kept herself busy all morning, organizing her office and rearranging everything. When lunchtime arrived, she called her fiancé, but he didn't answer. She called his cell phone, but still no response. Emma thought he might be in the cafeteria, but she didn't find him there either. One of his coworkers saw him talking to one of the receptionists.

—Tom? —the man turned his face towards her.

—Hello, Emma. Are you going to lunch already?

—No, I'm looking for Jamie. Have you seen him? —Tom furrowed his brow.

—No, I thought you two were going to have lunch together. He mentioned something about going to the apartment.

—Oh...—Emma furrowed her brow. —Thanks, Tom. —she said her goodbyes and headed to her car carrying a box. She loaded it into the back of her SUV and then got in and left the company, heading straight to her apartment. Emma kept wondering why Jamie didn't let her know he was going out for lunch. Ten minutes later, she arrived at the apartment building, carrying the box on her shoulder. As she climbed the stairs, she mentally reviewed the total number of food plates she had for the wedding in two days. She hoped the chef wouldn't say anything if she added ten more plates at the last moment. She inserted the key into the door and entered. As she closed the door, she heard Jamie's voice.

—There you are...—She put the box down and went in search of him. She took off her shoes and lifted her heels to take them to the closet. She crossed the hallway to the last door, and when she opened it, she was astonished.

—Emma! —Jamie exclaimed, trying to cover his nakedness. The brunette who was naked in the middle of their bed looked pale. —It's not what you think... —Jamie began to say, but Emma entered the closet and approached the cabinet where she had a wall filled with high-heeled shoes. She filled the empty space with the ones she had and turned around to find the slippers she wore at home. As she left, both of them were getting dressed in a hurry, but when they saw her, they froze in their tracks.

—After you finish packing your things, take those sheets. I don't want them in my apartment.

—What? Is that all you're going to say? —Jamie exclaimed, astonished.

—What do you want me to say? It's clear that you're screwing your assistant behind my back. I'm making it easy for you: Take your things, those sheets, and get out of my apartment.

—Emma, please, we're two days away from getting married, we have everything...—Emma crossed her arms.

—I have everything for MY wedding. I PAID for everything, so I will handle it.

—Why do you always do this? —she raised an eyebrow.

—What excuse are you going to come up with now? You needed action because you couldn't find it in your own bed with your fiancée? Sorry, let me correct myself: EX-fiancée. So you better leave this apartment with whatever you're wearing, or I'll kick you out myself.

—I'll wait for you to calm down, okay? And then we'll talk.

—We won't talk once you walk out that door. We won't speak again today, tomorrow, or for the rest of our lives, Jamie. Officially... —Emma took off the engagement ring and handed it to him—We are NOTHING. NOW GET OUT. No, wait... —She snatched the engagement ring back—This is mine, and it was also paid for with my money.

Jamie walked towards the exit with his poorly buttoned dress pants and shirt. Emma slammed the door in his face when he turned to her to try and talk. She let out a long sigh, but what worried her the most was...

...That there were no tears to shed.