SUGAR AND THE WONDER

Emily drifted through the fog of a night that felt more like a painting than a memory. Simon vanished without a word, the third man to leave her standing in the middle of an empty hallway, his scent evaporated like steam. We had shared a night of tangled sheets, whispered plans for a holiday, and thenby morninghe was gone, taking his toothbrush, his coat, his entire presence. My phone blinked a cold red, the service barred, my name etched onto a digital blacklist. I stared at the void, feeling neither tears nor anger, only a hollow bewilderment. What had I done to merit this?

When Victor, my first love, slipped away, I turned into a nightwatcher. I lingered by his office door, scribbled frantic letters begging for an explanation, and begged him not to go. He said, Youll be happy, just not with me. No more could I coax from him. I loved him deeply enough to suspend every moral compass, to offer my entire self to a future that never arrived.

I am an orphan, a product of a council orphanage. Contrary to the gossip that all children of such homes are reckless, many of us hesitate to step into relationships. I was one of those hesitant ones. For a year I savoured a fragile happiness, saving pennies for a wedding and a lavish honeymoon. We lived modestly in a cramped council flat that the state had handed down. Then, one evening, the flat fell silent. Victor evaporated as if hed dissolved into the night air, unable to bear my relentless pursuit. He fled the city, and I spent hours weeping until my heart felt like a stale biscuit, pecked apart by foolish pigeons.

My husband cant just walk out like that, my friends muttered over tea.

So you must have done something wrong, their husbands added, smug as if they held the script.

If Id erred, where could it have been? Everything had seemed perfect.

Auntie Tina, the office cleaner, smirked, Maybe you found a new fling, love. Youre overthinking it. If he wasnt yours, why mourn?

For months I could not find peace, until Ian appeared. My heart thumped and trembled with a feeling I had forgotten. Yet I kept him in a friend zone, fearing the same pattern. He finally proposed: a wedding, a honeymoon in Bali, love soaring on invisible wings. Three months later, he boarded a plane back to his homeland and never returned. He dissolved our marriage via a solicitor; I never even saw his face to say goodbye.

Now there was Simon again I confessed to myself that I had sunk so low into depression I contemplated sleeping forever. Anyone whod been there would understand. I stopped going to work, stopped eating, forced myself out of bed only when a faint need rose and then vanished. I was quietly extinguishing. A scraping sound at the door jolted me awakesomeone was clawing at the wood. Simon was back! From where did his strength arise? I darted to the door, caught my reflection in the mirror, recoiled in horror, yet flung the portal open to my fleeting joy. Behind it lay only emptiness. Just a glitch, I muttered bitterly, the final stop has arrived.

A sudden craving for hot, strong, sweet tea seized me. My legs trembled, nausea rose in my throat. I shuffled to the kitchen, brewed a cup, and after the second scorching sip, a forgotten warmth surged through my veins, a fierce will to live. My body, however, was so drained it rebelled. For a week I fed it drops of vitality, thanks to a pantry stocked with canned beans and stale biscuits. By weekend, I managed to crawl out of the flat, clutching a garbage bag. Near the communal chute, a ragged creature rolled at my feet, barked, and eyed my bag with hopeful desperation.

Sorry, little one, theres nothing for you there. Wait a moment and Ill fetch a sausage and some milk, the beast muttered, its voice a mix of human and animal.

It blinked and vanished down the chute. I peered insidejust a cardboard box and two empty metal bowls, as if someone had just fed a puppy and then left. On impulse, I bought a packet of dog food and a flea collar. When I returned, the creaturenow a tiny pup in my mindwas gone, along with the box and bowls.

Hey, where are you? I called.

Silence.

A voice floated from above, I threw it awayjust trash and disease! I slipped downstairs, scouring the corridors for the missing pup. I found nothing. A weight settled again on my chest. I trudged back home, the appetite Id felt in the shop evaporated. I turned on the television, channelsurfing aimlessly. A scraping sound at the door reminded me it wasnt Simon. Yet I had never felt such a surge of happiness, even on my wedding day.

The pup barked again, barreling into the flat.

So you saved me, I whispered, patting the shaking animal.

The monster turned out to be a small, pregnant spaniel, a purebred that a vet later identified as a German Spitz. Its owner must be searching, but there were no tags. I photographed the little miracle and plastered notices around the neighbourhood, combing through kennel forums to no avail. The spaniel became mine; I gave away all the puppies except one, which clung so fiercely to its mother and to me. Life flickered with new colours, yet a knot of misunderstanding and resentment lingered deep within.

I decided to cut the knot. The plan formed itself. I drafted official letters, forged notarised documentsmodern technology makes that easyand sent them to my former lovers, invoking my orphan status to bequeath all I owned. Who wouldnt bite at an inheritance? I knew them too well. At the appointed hour they gathered in a rented office, waiting for a solicitor. I entered, locked the door behind me.

I wont let you leave until you explain why you abandoned me, I declared, taking the head of the table. Lets start with Simon.

Something in the air shifted; perhaps surprise, perhaps something else, and they began to speak. Simon started, then the others interrupted, nodding in agreement. I sat, stunned by the absurd tableau, and could only exhale:

Because of this, you left me?

I couldnt stand it any longer! Ian shouted, his voice cracking with emotion. Put yourself in my shoes!

The truth unfolded: each night I had been muttering a single male name, not theirs, as if caught in a dreamspell. It was Zach. The oddity was that I knew no Zach at all. Of course I hadnt been unfaithfulhow ridiculous!

Can you talk to me? I asked the trio, eyes darting.

Whos Zach? Victor shrugged. You just laughed.

The situation was ludicrous. I was speaking in a dream, accused of infidelity, and tossed aside.

I even hired a detective to pin the blame, Ian laughed, the absurdity striking him.

Hed already found solace after fleeing me, even fathered two daughters with another woman.

Exactly, I thought Id catch you! Simon backed Ians claim, still single, swapping partners like hats.

Victor fidgeted, biting his lip, fists clenched, as if replaying the trauma. He had been my first love, and Id hoped hed be the only one.

Will you release us? Any more questions? Ian rose, cracking his knuckles.

Off you go, I growled, flinging my keys onto the table.

Exhaustion washed over me. No answers, only more questions, and a bitter rage at my exlovers for their foolishness that nearly destroyed me. What, indeed, had they been hiding? How would I have reacted if my man whispered anothers name in the night? I would have been frantic, suspecting, but I know nothing. One thing I do know: its no excuse to walk away.

At home, Mirathe spaniel Id named after the miracletumbled onto the Christmas tree Id dragged in, while Pippin, her tiny puppy, pranced around it. New Year was a week away, and I hadnt even bothered to decorate. To the exes! I muttered, ready to start afresh. A strange unease lingered. Was I still calling out to an invisible Zach in my dreams? Perhaps I should see a hypnotist. A balloon slipped from a prickly branch.

Youll keep breaking everything, I warned Pippin, watching the puppy try to sabotage the ornaments.

I lifted the tree gently, intending to set it on the kitchen table. At that precise moment, the phone rang.

Leave it all! I sang, Ill call back later.

I stumbled over my slippers, nearly fell. The phone kept squealing, the cord threatening to snap. Pippin tangled himself, trying to drag another balloon away. Chaos reigned.

When the tree finally sat safely, I poured a measure of brandy to toast a new beginning. I never drank, but the bottle was there for guests I never expected. A warm buzz tipped me into a sleepy haze, and the phone rang again.

Hello, Im calling about an ad, a voice said. Sorry for the late hour, but you didnt answer

Which ad? I asked, heart thudding.

Ms. Kelsey. I have your little dog, Kelsey. Can I come by? Ive been looking for her forever.

My mind raced, the brandy fogging my thoughts. I couldnt possibly give Mira away. As if summoned, Pippin nipped my heel, as if to say, Stay with me.

The owner arrived an hour later, shivering from the cold, eyes glossy with relief. He fell to his knees, burying his nose in Miras soft fur.

Thank you, thank you, he sobbed, clutching the spaniel, Eight months I thought she was lost forever.

I wont give her up, I snapped, though my voice trembled.

He stared at me, his gaze sharp. What about the puppy? he asked.

I imagined the money I could have scraped together. Just let me look at him first, he said, a nervous smile tugging at his lips. Its just a little thingmaybe shes yours after all.

I blurted an involuntary laugh, spilling the remaining brandy.

Madman, I muttered, youre absurd.

Youre not serious? he asked, eyes narrowing. Ill compensate you for caring for Kelsey.

Are you out of your mind? I retorted, feeling the sting of the alcohol. Why not have a drink? New Years is coming.

He laughed, slipping off his shoes. We moved to the kitchen, he keeping Mira cradled, me slicing lemon, arranging cheese, pouring the last drops of brandy into tiny glasses. I apologized for my nervousness, and he nodded, as if saying, It happens. Then we drank in silence, sharing a slice of lemon.

My name is Zach, he announced suddenly, as if unveiling a secret.

That night, as the dream faded, I awoke with the taste of lemon on my tongue and the echo of a name that had haunted me in shadows. The absurdity lingered, but the world felt softer, like a painting brushed with light.