Crossroads of the Heart: A Clash of Love and Loyalties.
The decision was made, yet dread consumed me. Choosing Max over Fredrick wasn't the hard part—it was figuring out how to tell Fredrick that our journey had come to an end. I ignored his messages about meeting his parents and planning our wedding, the guilt of knowing I'd break his heart weighing heavily on me.
To buy time, I lied. I told Fredrick I'd been overwhelmed with work at the hospital. Though he clearly didn't believe me, he didn't press further. Instead, he asked me to request some days off so we could start preparing for the wedding. His gentleness made my deception even harder to bear.
One Sunday afternoon, Max came over and invited me out for lunch. Desperate for a distraction, I agreed. After a quick change, I joined him in his car. The ride was lighthearted as we sang along to the radio, and for a moment, I allowed myself to relax.
About thirty minutes later, Max pulled into a gated estate lined with luxurious homes painted in cream, their black roofs gleaming under the sun. The calm and order of the neighborhood felt like a balm to my frazzled nerves.
We stopped in front of a stunning house near the end of the lane. Max stepped out, walked around to my side, and opened the door for me. "Welcome to my humble abode," he said with a grin.
I stepped out, taking in the grandeur of the house. "Shall we?" he asked, extending his hand. I took it, and we walked inside.
The living room was breathtaking. A massive crystal chandelier cast a warm glow over the sleek, modern furniture. On the walls hung tasteful artwork and striking portraits, including one of a half-naked ebony woman that caught my attention.
"Wow, Max. This place is incredible," I said, spinning slowly to take it all in.
"Make yourself at home, my darling," he called from the bar, pouring two glasses of wine.
When he handed me a glass, I couldn't help but ask, "How do you afford this place? Renting a house here must cost a fortune."
Max chuckled. "I don't rent. I bought it."
I stared at him, stunned. The caliber of the estate, the house, the furniture—it all screamed wealth far beyond what I'd imagined. I knew Max came from a privileged background, but this was on another level.
As I stood there in awe, Max disappeared into the kitchen. Moments later, he called me over to a dining table laden with an array of homemade dishes. The aroma of fried rice and turkey filled the room, making my mouth water.
"Did you cook all this yourself?" I asked, savoring every bite. "Be honest—this tastes way too good to be a man's cooking."
Max laughed. "What's that supposed to mean? Men can cook too, you know!"
"Maybe, but this? This tastes like a chef's work," I teased.
He chuckled again but sidestepped my curiosity when I asked about his profession. "A man's got to do what he has to do to be respected in society," he said cryptically.
I pressed him for more, but he waved me off. "It's bad manners to talk while eating," he said with a wink.
Later that evening, Max dropped me off at home. As we approached, I noticed a black Benz parked by my gate. My heart skipped a beat as I recognized the license plate.
"Oh no," I muttered under my breath. "It's Fredrick."
Max glanced at me. "Is everything okay?"
"Yeah... yeah," I replied, though my voice betrayed me.
As we walked into the compound, my worst fear materialized. Fredrick sat on the steps by my front door. The moment he saw us, he stood up, his eyes narrowing as he took in the sight of Max and me holding hands.
Fredrick spoke first, his voice low but heavy with emotion. "Are you going to tell me what's going on, or are you just going to keep avoiding me?"
Max turned to me, confused. "MMA, who is this man? And why is he calling you baby?"
Fredrick's tone sharpened. "Baby? My love, who is this? And what are you doing with him?"
I froze, my gaze fixed on the ground, unable to meet either man's eyes.
Max and Fredrick began exchanging heated words, their voices rising with each accusation. The tension between them drew the attention of my neighbors, who peeked out of their windows and doors.
Embarrassed and overwhelmed, I slipped away from the chaos and darted into my house, slamming the door shut behind me.
Both men rushed to the door, banging and shouting for me to come out.
"MMA! Open this door!" Fredrick yelled.
"No, MMA. Tell him to leave!" Max shouted.
Their voices blended into a cacophony of pleas and demands. I pressed my hands over my ears, screaming back, "Leave! Both of you, just leave me alone!"
Silence fell, but only for a moment. Their muffled voices outside the door continued as I sank to the floor, my heart pounding. The crossroads I'd tried so hard to avoid had caught up with me, and now, I had to face the consequences of my choices.