Unmistaken

LEONARD:

The elevator doors slid open on the twenty-fourth floor.

I stepped out and puffed. Eight apartment doors lined the corridor, and I hadn’t considered that detail. I should’ve followed her all the way to the door she entered that night.

Well then—knock on every door until she answers.

I started with the first door. Luck, or fate, placed the last person I wanted to see in front of me…the guy from Panila. Lucas.

Of course. He should’ve been in the game all along.

I never liked him. Meeting him at Panila, I knew he was more than a loser. A genius nerd. And my instincts never failed me…he had to be the mastermind behind the game.

“We meet again,” I said.

With those oversized glasses, he looked creepier than ever. I stayed composed, staring at him. His eyes flashed behind the lenses, mouth falling open.

“How…?” he stammered, after it took him eternity to accept who stood before him.

I wanted to shove past him, but for Lucia’s sake, I forced myself to act civil. I must show some manners…for once.

“I came for Lucia. Go tell her.”

He looked back over his shoulder, then back at me, scanning the corridor like he feared witnesses.

“What are you doing here?” His voice trembled, but it carried. “And who is Lucia?”

So he still thought the game was intact. Maybe Lucia hadn’t told him they’d been exposed.

“Lucia?” I called into the apartment, nudging forward.

He shoved me in the chest, panting. “What the hell are you doing?”

That was it. I pushed the door open; he staggered aside.

“Lucia!” I shouted, all pretence of manners gone.

I started toward an inner door, but he suddenly blocked me, arms stretched wide. I stared down at his limbs…thin as twigs. One flick and they’d snap. He really needed a gym.

“Are you insane?” he roared. “Barging in here, screaming like you own the place? And now you’re invading my privacy? Are you that unreasonable?!”

I stepped back. Damn it. He was right. I needed to control myself.

“Where is she?”

“Where is who…?” He blinked. Once. Twice. “Eri… Lucia. She isn’t here.”

So he realised I knew.

“Where is she?” I asked again.

“She…went to visit her mother.”

Suspicious. But it matched the only explanation for why Lucia seemed so tense. Maybe her mother was sick.

“When will she be back?”

“She didn’t say.”

I didn’t believe him. His words tried to sell, but his nerves sold him short. Still, I couldn’t press further. Even when he refused to give me her number or location, I nodded and walked out.

I didn’t leave. No. Whatever he was hiding, I’d find out. If that meant camping out in my car for hours or days, so be it. Either I’d trail him to Lucia, or I catch her sneaking in or out…if she was really trying to avoid me again.

Then he appeared outside, not with Lucia, but with a man. I didn’t see his face—took the other side of Lucas, plus a cap pulled low. However, I recognised him as the guy who’d arrived earlier in a cab and ran into the building.

They flagged another cab. I followed. 

They stopped at a phone shop. I waited. They spent an hour. Jumped into a new cab that halted minutes later in front of a clothing store. I sighed. They spent hours.

Then, it clicked.

Shit. I should’ve thought deeper. I should’ve analysed sooner. Those flimsy arms weren’t unusual…they were right…for a gay. He was on a date with his partner. New phone, new wardrobe. What’s next? 

Lunch.

I knew it! I let out a sharp laugh when they stepped out of the cab at a restaurant, hitting my steering wheel in pride. The sound of my horn startled them. They turned, and I ducked fast, my chest heaving.

Wait. What the hell was I doing? Following two lovers around the city, celebrating that my theory was right? That wasn’t me. That was silly. I should be focused on Lucia…worrying about her, not stalking these two.

But for the record, I knew where they’d go next. Hotel. To relax? Ptff. To fvck.

I should head home. Enough of this accidental amusement. He wasn’t hiding Lucia. Just hiding his partner, like a shy nerd, terrified of being caught.

Bernard’s call came through as my engine came to life, his voice drenched in misery.

“Leo,” he said. “The universe has done it bad.”

He was wrecked. I found him drowning in alcohol, bawling like a child. His future husband had dumped him the night before. Their relationship ended with only one man coming out free.

“I was simply having fun, Leo,” he sniffled. “Shouldn’t I have enjoyed the movie?”

The ex-fiance claimed Bernard embarrassed him—too loud in the theatre, attracting stares. Sure, Bernard was born loud. He laughed loud, ate loud, and even made loud money. And trust me, eyes were on us due to his loud cries. But breaking up over that? After more than a month together? Ridiculous.

“It’s not your fault,” I told him. “You’ll find another wife.”

“I want only him.”

Pathetic. The man had gone back to his abusive boyfriend—he never confirmed he had broken up with him. Asked Bernard too many times for the status, but my poor friend clung to the fact that he’d recently been getting all the attention. Now the truth was obvious: the guy had returned to where he belonged.

Consoling Bernard was the hardest thing I’d ever done. Finally, I drove him home. He didn’t seem drunk, but with all the bottles he’d downed, it would’ve been reckless to let him take the wheel.

The moment I stepped into his house, I froze.

That familiar scent. That perfume. Fresh, mild, intoxicating. Harsh to the nose, but alluring to the heart. It belonged to only one person. Lucia.

I’d first smelled it when I drove her from Panila. I thought Erica had switched perfumes until I began to suspect them. But I couldn’t hold onto the scent because even after days, after Lucia’s disappearance, the fragrance hung in the air like a cobweb. 

Erica's trip for nearly a month, the scent finally began to fade. I concluded it was her long absence…since Lucia didn’t reappear. Until six days ago—when Lucia returned. The scent returned.

And here it was again. Strong. Clear. Unmistaken. 

For all the years I’ve lived, schooled, met clients, and employed staff, no one else has ever worn this unique scent. It has to be made just for her.

“What is it?” Bernard slurred.

“Who was here?” I demanded, like I owned the place. Except Bernard didn’t take it to heart like Lucas. “Was your ex here?”

“Eric is not my ex! He is mine.”

“Can I see a picture of him?”

“Hmm?”

The dinner at my home. Bernard’s shock. Lucia’s tembling. The tension…they all made sense.

“Show me anything,” I pressed, voice cracking. Pleading.

“I don’t have one. But chills. My phone’s in repairs.”