Keeping Secrets

I am lying on the cold, hard ground in the backyard of my ex-boyfriend‘s house, waiting for him to come home, hoping he does not see me in his tall grass. I had told him multiple times long ago that he needed to cut it, but now it was working in my favor. Every time I heard a car in the distance, I took a peek to see if it was him. The neighborhood was quiet except for a little noise coming from the house across the street, which soon died down. The more I thought about what he had done to me earlier that night, the more my heart broke. It also became harder to hold back tears.

Let me start at the beginning. It all started this evening on my 71st birthday. We had decided to go out to dinner. Eddie arrived just in time to pick me up at 6 p.m. for a 7 o’clock dinner.

It had started out relatively normal. He had even complimented me on how I looked when I got into the car.

"You look very lovely tonight," he said as he opened the door.

"Thank you," I said. I could feel my cheeks heating up at his compliment. Once I was settled into my seat, he made his way over to the driver's side. I was looking forward to spending this birthday with him.

“This is going to be a great night, I am so happy to be going with you,” I said as I rubbed my hand up his leg.

“Yes, it will be a very memorable night,” Eddie said, taking one hand off the wheel and putting it on top of mine.

Eddie's hand seemed to be really hot tonight. I hope he was not getting sick. He would have told me, right? He would have canceled the dinner if he were, right? I glanced over at him, wondering if I should ask. I was just overthinking this.

Every now and then, I caught him staring straight ahead with a distant look in his eyes. Was he trying to hide another gift from me? I was excited to see what he had planned for this birthday. Last year, he had surprised me with a trip to Japan, oh, that was the best time of my life.

I thought maybe, because of the way he was acting, that he was going to ask me to marry him tonight. My heart began to race at the thought that getting married at my age was not unheard of. After 3 years of dating, he was finally going to ask the question. I had to try to stop myself from smiling too much.

I was imagining the ring on my finger. As we pulled into the parking lot of the Red Lobster restaurant, I tried to hide the way I was feeling.

“Reservation for 2, under the name White,” Eddie said as we walked into the restaurant.

“Of course. " Right this way," the maître d' said as he led us to a table by a wide window in a little corner, the perfect little secret nook that looked as though it had been made just for us.

"Would you like a wine menu for tonight?” he asked once we were seated.

"Yes, thank you," Eddie replied for both of us. "I would love this to be the best night of Shani's life.” I could feel my cheeks turning red a second time tonight.

“Yes, sir. Right away. I will be right back with that,” the maître d' said as he handed us our food menus and walked away.

“Oh, this is so romantic, Eddie. How did you plan all this without me knowing?” I asked, then continued, “You did not have to go all out for me, you know. I am just another year older than I was last year,” I said, peeking over the menu.

"No, I had to. It's your birthday. It's your special night." His face still looked a little red. I really hoped he was not getting sick, but I shrugged it off as nerves. After all, I believed he was planning to propose tonight, he was probably just wondering if I was going to say yes.

“That's very kind of you,” I said with a knowing smile.

“Now let's decide on what we're going to order.” He was not going to propose right this second, so I looked on and perused the menu. Interesting. Did he have someone setting something up for me in the kitchen or maybe back at my house, and I just did not know it yet? That must be it.

“Okay, Eddie.”

Right after I said this, a waiter came over with the wine menus and was ready to take our order. Eddie ended up ordering for us; he asked for a half-lobster dinner and a white wine. We talked about a lot of things as we ate our lobster. The whole time, I could not think about anything else, just how he was going to propose to me tonight. But when dessert came, there still had been no proposal. He paid for both of us, then we walked back to the car, and he drove me home.

I looked around when we got to my house to see if I could spot anyone hiding in the bushes or peeking out of the windows, waiting to see if we were back yet. Oh, how I could not wait to be surprised. In my mind, there was only one thing that could be happening tonight: a proposal.

However, I had been completely wrong. After he had opened the car door for me and walked me to my door, he kissed me on the cheek, and then he said in an almost whisper, “I think we should break up.” For a moment, I wondered if I had heard him correctly since he had said it so softly. The smile I had on my face from his kiss disappeared slowly.

I stood there at my front door in awe of what I had just heard, but by the time I managed to process his words, he had already gotten back into the car and driven away.

I was in such shock that my mind moved back to my old ways, and it was right then that I decided I would kill him. I knew this was an overreaction to all this, but in my defense, I was having an emotional breakdown. You know the old saying: if I cannot have him, nobody will.

So I went into my house and got out all the things from my assassin days. I had been trained to be an assassin from the age of 5. Orphaned at a young age, this was the only way they thought I would be of use.

I may be retired now, but I thought this was going to be my time. Heartbreak has a funny way of bringing the old me back.

I took out my best gun, got dressed in black commando-style, and went to my now ex-boyfriend's house, lying in wait, hidden in the tall grass. I had always told him he should mow it. Now it was working in my favor.

I am now waiting very patiently for him to return home. As I do not see the car in the driveway yet, I know he has not come home.

However, one of his neighbors noticed me and called in a report of a prowler. Soon, a police officer arrived. Since I was in assassin mode, I fired back. I got in some good hits, at least until their own secret sniper fatally shot me. I guess that because of all the anger I was feeling, I really was not paying attention to my surroundings as I usually would have been.

However, it turned out that, through all of this, what I had not known that night was that the reason he broke up with me was because he did not want to hurt me. He was going to die soon because he had cancer, and he did not want me to see him suffer. If only he had told me, I would not have died as I did.

I guess I am just going to meet him in heaven and give him a piece of my mind. We could have gotten through this together. Instead, we both ended up facing death alone. One honest conversation could have changed this entire outcome.

But instead, I was shot and killed on my 71st birthday when I was mistaken for a prowler.