The Promise

Sandra's Pov

The apartment felt too small for whatever was sitting heavy between us.

I watched Zadok pace near the window, his shoulders tight, hands running through his hair the way they always did when something was eating at him. The silence stretched and my stomach twisted even more.

"Baby, is everything okay?" I started to ask.

"Sandra." He cut me off gently, turning to face me. "There is something I need to tell you"

I set down my tea, hands already shaking. "What is it?"

He crossed the room and knelt in front of me, taking my hands. His grip was warm but his eyes, God, his eyes looked haunted.

“Zadok you are scaring me.”

"I got a job offer.”

“You did?” I squeeled but then I paused midway. “Wait… isn't that supposed to be good news? Why are you sad?”

“It's in Singapore.”

My smile instantly disappeared.  

“I got a contract of two years, maybe less if I prove myself fast enough." He paused, watching my face. "The pay is triple of what I make now, Sandra. It is the kind of money that could build something real for us, something your father can't dismiss."

I was already sweating now even though the AC was on a very low temperature. "No."

"Sandra..."

"No, Zadok, you can’t just leave me."

He stood, reaching for me, but I stepped back. "I'm not leaving you, I'm doing this for you. For us. Your father would never accept me as I am and you know that."

"I don't care what my father thinks."

"But I do." His voice cracked and frustration flashed across his face. "I care that every time we walk into a room together, people look at me like I was lucky you are slumming it. I care that your father treats me like a stain on his reputation. I care that I can’t give you the life you deserve."

"But I didn't want that life," I said, voice breaking. "I just want you. Here, with me."

He closed the distance us and cupped my face in his hands, thumbs brushing away tears I hadn't realized were falling. "And you'd have me. I swear to God, Sandra, I would come back for you and when I do, I'd have everything I need to marry you properly, to stand in front of your father and tell him I am worthy of you."

"You are already worthy."

"Not in his eyes." His jaw tightened. "And as much as I hate to admit it, that matters baby. Because if we go to him as we are now, he'd destroy me. He'd make sure I never work in this city again. You know he would."

I did know. My father was ruthless when it came to things he wanted to control, and I was at the top of that list.

"What if something happens?" My voice came out small and terrified like a child's. "What if you meet someone else? What if you forget about me?"

Zadok’s expression immediately softened and he pulled me into his arms, holding me so tight I could barely breathe. "That would never happen, Sandra. Over my dead body. 

You are it for me, Sandra. You are the only thing that matters, my last bus stop."

I buried my face in his chest, inhaling his scent and trying to memorize everything, the way his heartbeat sounded against my ear and the way his arms felt like the only safe place in the world.

"Promise me you'd wait," he whispered into my hair. "Promise me you wouldn't let your father push you into something you don't want."

Tears were streaming freely down my face. "I promise." The words felt hollow. "I promise."

He pulled back and looked at me, eyes searching mine. "I love you my queen. And I will come back for you, no matter what."

"I love you too."

He kissed me then, slowly, like he was trying to pour everything he couldn't say into that one moment. When he finally pulled away, I saw the resolve in his eyes and the determination. 

It both terrified and reassured me.

"Two years," he said again. "Wait for me."

And then he was gone.

I stood in the doorway long after his footsteps faded, arms wrapped around myself, trying to hold together pieces of a heart that was already breaking.

The silence that followed was unbearable.

I sank onto the couch and let the tears come, hot and relentless, until I couldn't breathe through the sobs. I wanted to run after him, beg him to stay, tell him we could make it work somehow.

But I didn't.

Because deep down, I knew he was right. My father would destroy him if he came for me now. 

So I sat alone in the apartment where we'd built so many memories and I whispered his name into the empty air, over and over, like a prayer.

Two years. I could survive two years.

I had to.