Broken Trust - Pt. 2

India glanced at herself in the mirror. Her red eyes from sleepless nights, old t-shirt and leggings stared back at her. She frowned. If she was going to face Malcolm, she didn’t want to look like she’d been drowning in her own misery. No, if she was going to meet him, she would do it on her terms—looking confident and untouchable. She marched to her closet and put on a sleek, black wrap dress that hugged her curves in all the right places and made her feel powerful. Pulling on her favorite heels, she felt her confidence returning, layering over the hurt and confusion like armor. 

Next, she sat at her vanity and applied her makeup with precision, highlighting her almond-shaped eyes and adding a bold, red lipstick that always made her feel fierce. She ran a brush through her curls, fluffing them out until they framed her face perfectly. By the time she finished, she barely recognized the woman staring back at her. She looked strong, composed, and, most importantly, in control. India took a step back, giving herself one final look. She didn’t just want to be cute; she wanted to be unforgettable. She wanted Malcolm to realize exactly what he had lost and know that he could never have it back. With a satisfied nod, she grabbed her purse and headed for the door.

When she arrived, Malcolm was already seated, looking like the ghost of guilt incarnate. His shoulders were slumped, his hands fidgeting nervously on the table, and his eyes were fixed on the untouched Henny and Coke in front of him. He looked up as she approached, and for a moment, India could see raw remorse etched into his face. His normally confident posture was gone, replaced by a man who seemed to be unraveling.

India took a deep breath, steeling herself as she made her way to the table. She refused to let his appearance soften her resolve. She had spent too many sleepless nights grappling with the betrayal, and she wasn’t about to let a pitiful expression erase the hurt he had caused. As she reached the table, she paused, giving him a long, hard look before finally sitting down across from him. Malcolm opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He looked as if he was struggling to find the right words, his throat bobbing as he swallowed hard. 

“You…” he rubbed his head. “You look good.”

“I know.” India folded her arms across her chest, raising an eyebrow, making it clear she wasn’t going to make this easy for him.

“Thank you for coming.” He reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a thick envelope and placed it on the table between them. “I got a divorce,” he smiled, tapping the envelope. “Now we are free to be together.”

India’s thoughts raced as she stared at the envelope. Part of her wanted to grab it, to open it and see for herself that it was true. But another part of her, the part that had been so deeply hurt by his lie, felt nothing but emptiness. She looked back up at Malcolm, shaking her head slowly. 

“Malcolm,” she sighed, biting her lip. “It’s too late.”

“India, please,” he pleaded, reaching across the table. “I know I messed up, but I love you. I’ve always loved you. I made a mistake, a terrible mistake, but I’ve done everything I can to make it right. Doesn’t that count for something?”

“I don’t doubt that you love me, Malcolm. But love isn’t enough when it’s built on lies. Trust is everything.”

“Baby, please!” Tears welled up in his eyes, and he dropped his head, hands trembling as he clutched the divorce papers.

India fought back tears as she watched him, but she knew her decision was the right one. She stood up, slinging her purse over her shoulder. 

“I’m sorry, Malcolm. I just… can’t be with a man I can’t trust. And what if we were to ever get married? I would always have this in the back of my mind…”

"India, don't do this," he begged.

"I have to go. I really hope you find what you’re looking for, but it’s not going to be with me."

As she walked away, she felt a mix of sadness and relief. It hurt to say goodbye, but she knew she was choosing herself, choosing her own peace over the uncertainty of a future with a man she could never fully trust again.

Driving home, her phone buzzed; it was her doctor's office reminding her of an appointment she'd forgotten. Her emotions were still raw from seeing Malcolm again and she wanted to cancel. But she knew she needed to keep the appointment—she had been putting off her annual tests for far too long. Maybe it would be a good distraction, a way to shift her focus away from the chaos of her love life and onto something she could control.

The next day at the doctor's office, India sat in the waiting room, flipping through an old magazine. She wasn’t really reading it, just turning pages to keep her hands busy. Her mind kept drifting back to the conversation with Malcolm, replaying every word, every expression on his face. She had meant what she said about not being able to trust him, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. When her name was called, she was led to a small, sterile exam room where the nurse took her vitals and asked a series of routine questions. India answered automatically, her thoughts elsewhere.

“Sit tight, the doctor will be in shortly,” the nurse said, patting her leg before leaving the room. 

As she waited for the doctor, she pulled out her phone and began scrolling through social media, hoping for a distraction. But instead, her screen filled with notifications—dozens of messages from an unknown number, all coming through one after the other.