Seven Years A Shadow, One Day A Prize

Jessie Page stood in her large kitchen, holding a wooden spoon. She stirred chicken and wild‑rice soup. She had spent months refining the recipe for her husband Garrett Swanson, head of a tech company, to help him unwind after a hard work week. In a good mood, she hummed as steam filled the room.

Her phone buzzed on the marble counter. It was an unfamiliar local number. She wiped her hands, put on a polite smile, and answered.

"Hello?"

"Hello, is this Mrs. Swanson?" a bright, professional female voice asked. "This is Chloe from Timeless Moments Wedding Planning. I just have a few final details regarding the ceremony flow that I need to confirm with you."

Jessie's hand paused on the wooden spoon. The smile faded slightly, replaced by mild confusion. She stirred the soup one last time before answering, her tone pleasant but firm. "I am indeed Mrs. Swanson, but my husband and I have been married for seven years. We certainly aren't planning a wedding anytime soon. You must have the wrong client."

There was a brief, awkward silence on the other end of the line. "Oh, wait. Did I dial the wrong number?" The planner sounded genuinely flustered. "Let me check my file... I am so sorry. Just to be absolutely sure, am I speaking with Mr. Garrett Swanson's fiancée, Miss Brittnie Rivera?"

Clatter.

The heavy wooden spoon slipped from Jessie's suddenly numb fingers, hitting the marble countertop and clattering loudly onto the hardwood floor. A sharp, high-pitched ringing erupted in her ears, drowning out the ambient hum of the refrigerator.

"Hello? Are you still there?" the planner asked, her voice pitching higher in panic. "Please tell me you are Miss Rivera?"

Jessie's face drained of all color. Her throat felt as though it had been packed with dry cotton. "I... I am not..." she managed to whisper.

"Oh, dear God, I am so sorry! I've dialed the wrong number entirely!" The planner offered a hasty, panicked apology and abruptly ended the call.

The line went dead, but the silence in the kitchen was deafening. Jessie stood frozen, her heart hammering violently against her ribs. Garrett Swanson. Brittnie Rivera.

She was intimately familiar with that name. Brittnie Rivera was Garrett's former star student from his brief stint as a guest lecturer at Stanford, and now, she was a junior researcher at his company, Helios Dynamics. Over the years, Jessie had heard Garrett mention Brittnie's name multiple times. Every time he spoke of her, it was with a rare tone of admiration and praise for her intellect and dedication.

Jessie refused to believe this phone call was a mere coincidence. The planner had specifically linked Garrett's name with Brittnie's, and called a number that was closely associated with Garrett's personal accounts.

By ten o'clock that night, the massive, meticulously decorated living room felt like a tomb. Jessie sat alone on the edge of the plush velvet sofa, the only illumination coming from the muted glow of the city lights outside the floor-to-ceiling windows. She was waiting for Garrett. Throughout the evening, she had called his private cell phone half a dozen times. Every single call had gone to voicemail.

Finally, as the antique grandfather clock in the hallway chimed eleven, her phone vibrated in her lap. It was Garrett returning her call.

She answered immediately, but before she could even form a syllable, Garrett's deep, commanding, and overtly impatient voice filled her ear.

"I am incredibly busy right now, Jessie. Can you please just be reasonable for once and stop blowing up my phone?"

The words felt like a physical blow. A heavy, suffocating weight settled in Jessie's chest. She didn't know exactly when it had happened, but somewhere along the line, she had become the "unreasonable" and "demanding" wife in the eyes of her husband.

"Are you... coming home tonight?" she asked, her voice trembling slightly despite her best efforts to keep it steady.

"No, I'm not coming back," Garrett replied, his tone clipped and authoritative. "I have to travel out of state for a crucial conference this weekend. I'll be sleeping at the office tonight to prep."

"Do you need me to..." Jessie started, intending to ask if he wanted her to pack a bag and bring it to the Helios Dynamics headquarters.

But before she could finish her sentence, another voice bled through the receiver. It was a woman's voice, pitched in a soft, urgent whisper, yet loud enough for Jessie to hear clearly.

"Professor, hurry up... the wedding planner is waiting on line two..."

"Alright, I have to go," Garrett said abruptly to Jessie, completely ignoring the background noise. "I'm going to be swamped for the next few days. Do not bother me with trivial household matters."

Click.

He hung up.

Jessie sat in the dark, the phone still pressed to her ear. She had heard it perfectly. The wedding planner. A profound, bone-chilling coldness seeped out from her heart, spreading through her veins until her entire body felt like ice.

By the time the sun fully crested the horizon the next morning, Jessie was already sitting in the passenger seat of a sleek, rented town car, speeding down the highway toward the neighboring city of Napa.

She hadn't slept a wink. Her eyes were bloodshot and swollen, her face a mask of exhaustion and pale anxiety. She stared blankly out the window as the lush vineyards blurred past. After a night of agonizing overthinking, she had made a decision. She had to see it with her own eyes. She had to know if this nightmare was real.

She had easily obtained the address. She simply used a burner app to call the wedding planner back, posing as a distant relative needing directions to the venue. The planner, unsuspecting, had handed over the location of the Morning Sun Estate without a second thought.

As the car navigated the winding roads, her phone rang, jarring her from her dark thoughts. She looked at the caller ID and hesitated for a long moment before answering.

"Liam," she said, her voice raspy and dry.

"Jessie! Thank God you finally picked up," Dr. Liam Foster's energetic voice boomed through the speaker. He was a senior colleague and a dear friend from her past life in academia. "You know exactly why I'm calling, so I won't beat around the bush. The research institute desperately needs you. If you agree to come back, I'll step down and give you the Director of the Quantum Research Center position immediately. What do you say?"

Jessie's emotional state was entirely flat. She felt detached from her own life. "Liam, the institute has you and Professor Finch holding the fort. Whether I come back or not doesn't really matter at this point."

"How can you say it doesn't matter?" Liam sounded frantic. "You founded the Quantum Oscillator Lab, Jessie! You know better than anyone what this research means to the field. Besides, that Director position was always meant for you. If it wasn't for what happened seven years ago... Look, I'm only keeping the seat warm for you. You can't expect me to hold it forever!"

Jessie rubbed her throbbing temples. Her mind was a chaotic mess of grief and anticipation of what she was about to face. She couldn't process career decisions right now.

"Liam, let me think about it. I'll give you an answer soon." She hung up, turning her gaze back to the approaching gates of the estate.