Chapter 2 Whispers of vengeance

Her fiance

The good man. The gentle man. The one her mother liked until today.

Of course, she muttered with a smirk. Right on cue.

She hesitated for a second, then swiped to answer.

Hello, Mr. Perfect, she said, her voice lilting with playful sarcasm.

There was a pause on the line before Jay spoke, his tone soft, warm and worried. Joanna, you sound different. Are you okay?

She laughed, the sound light and careless. Wow. Straight to the interrogation, huh? Can't a girl go out for a drink without being cross examined?

I'm not interrogating you, Jay said gently. I'm just... you sound like you've been drinking.

Bingo, she said cheerfully. You win the prize. What do I get? A lecture?

Joanna, please. It's almost midnight, he said, his voice tightening with concern. Where are you?

Somewhere between freedom and home, she teased. Why? Are you planning to track my steps like a GPS boyfriend?

He sighed. You know that's not what I mean. I just want to make sure you're safe.

Oh, please, she said, rolling her eyes as she walked. I'm fine, Jay I'm not some fragile princess who needs rescuing. You can relax.

Jay was silent for a moment. Then his voice came softer, almost pleading. Why are you being like this lately? You've been cold for weeks. You don't sound like yourself anymore.

Joanna smiled faintly to herself, though her eyes were suddenly sharp. Maybe I finally found myself. Maybe this is me.

That's not fair, he murmured. You're pushing everyone away, your mum, your friends, even me.

Correction, she said, adjusting her purse on her shoulder. I'm pushing away people who think they know what's best for me. That's not the same thing.

You're drunk, Jay said quietly.

Tipsy, she corrected, wagging a finger at the dark. There's a difference. Drunk people stumble. I'm walking straight as sin.

He let out a quiet breath, half a laugh, half a sigh. You're impossible.

And you're predictable, she countered. Always so calm, so good, so boring.

Boring? His tone rose slightly. Is that what you think of me?

She chuckled, though her chest ached faintly.

Jay, you're a sweet man. The kind mothers want their daughters to marry. But maybe I'm not that daughter anymore.

He was silent, but she could almost feel his hurt through the line. What does that even mean?

It means, she said, pausing under another flickering light, that maybe I want more than sweet words and a safe life. Maybe I want something that burns.

Something that burns destroys, he said softly.

She smiled bitterly. Then let it.

The silence between them grew heavy. Joanna wrapped her free arm around herself as the night breeze brushed her skin. Somewhere in the distance, a dog barked, and the sound of a car faded down the road.

Joanna, Jay said finally, his voice low and steady now. I know you're angry. I know your mum hurt you. But don't let that change who you are.

Joanna stopped walking. Did my mum call you again?

He hesitated. She was worried. She said you left the house in the evening and have not come back yet.

Joanna laughed harshly. Of course she did. Saint Mother of Perpetual Worry. Maybe she should mind her own life for once.

Joanna, she loves you, he said.

Love? she repeated, her tone mocking. If that's love, then I'd rather have enemies.

Don't talk like that, he whispered. She's still your mother.

She stopped being my mother the day she slapped me and called me a disgrace. Joanna snapped, her voice rising. All because I dared to think differently.

Jay's voice softened again. She was upset. You hurt her too, you know.

Joanna rolled her eyes and started walking again. You sound just like her.

I'm not taking sides, he said quickly. I'm trying to hold us together.

She laughed without humor. Then maybe you should stop trying. Maybe it's not worth holding anymore.

He went quiet for a long moment, and for the first time, Joanna heard his breathing falter. When he finally spoke, his voice was shaking slightly.

Do you still love me, Joanna?

She froze. Her heart gave a strange, tiny jolt. But her pride was louder.

Love? she said, forcing a light laugh. That's such a heavy word for a Friday night.

Please, he said softly. Don't joke. Just answer me.

She swallowed, then said lightly, I'll answer when you learn to stop sounding like my father.

That broke him. His voice cracked, thick with pain.

I don't even know who I'm talking to anymore.

Good, she said coldly. Maybe it's time you met the real me.

Joanna....

Jay, I'm tired, she interrupted, her tone suddenly distant. Go to bed. We'll talk tomorrow maybe.

She ended the call before he could reply.

The silence afterward was deafening. The hum of the streetlamps, the rustle of leaves, the rhythm of her heels it all felt too loud, too sharp.

She stared at her phone, then sighed and slipped it into her purse.

Men, she muttered. Always trying to fix what isn't broken.

But her chest was tight. Her throat ached. And when she blinked, her eyes burned faintly not from tears, of course. Never that.

She reached her street. The night was quieter here, the houses dark except for one porch light flickering near her gate. She fished her keys out, almost dropped them, and laughed at herself. "See? Still walking straight.

Her laughter echoed in the quiet, a little too loud, a little too empty.

Inside, the house was dark. The silence wrapped around her like a blanket, and suddenly the air felt heavy. She kicked off her shoes and sat on the edge of the couch, staring at the wall.

Her mother's voice haunted the silence. You'll regret this one day, Joanna

Joanna clenched her fists. "Never," she whispered.

Still, as she sat there, she felt something tug deep in her chest, a small, unwanted pang of guilt, or maybe loneliness. She shook it off, stood up, and went to the mirror.

Her reflection stared back fierce, beautiful, untamed. But behind the smudged eyeliner and painted lips, she saw something else too: fear.

She scoffed at herself. You're fine. You're winning.

But even she didn't believe it.

As the night stretched on, Joanna finally lay back on her couch, staring at the ceiling, her mind spinning between anger, pride, and a dangerous kind of excitement.

Because even if she didn't admit it yet, she is not sure if she's going the right part.

Jay sat awake on his bed, phone in hand. He replayed her laughter in his mind that strange, careless sound that didn't belong to the woman he loved.

He knew something was wrong. He couldn't explain how, but he felt it deep down, like a knot in his gut.

Tomorrow, he promised himself, he would go see her.

He needed to look her in the eye and understand what was happening and what she was hiding.

What if she doesn't love me again, no that's not the case he said to himself. He continued thinking all night till he slept off.