Crumbling Sands

That night, Johnny and Quinn celebrated a year together by dinning at the fanciest restaurant on the coast of Maine, followed by a chilly walk on the beach at sunset. The sky was alive with glowing swaths of amber, rouge, and tangerine, warming the otherwise brisk landscape. The ocean waves swelled and tossed themselves to the sandy shore while Quinn had stared into Johnny's deep blue eyes. She had bristled against the chill in the salty sea air so Johnny had pulled off his faded black suit jacket and offered it to her. What a gentleman.

Now she stood there in his jacket, wrapped in his arms as a wash of warm contentment filled her heart. Her joy filled her face, deepening her trade mark dimples and igniting the sparkle in her eyes.

Johnny whispered in her ear, "I think this calls for some champagne." He kissed her gently on the cheek, twirled her around and motioned with his index figure to indicate he'd be just one minute. He then ran to the nearby picnic blanket spread out on the beach, on which sat a pretty and thoughtfully packed basket.

Quinn watched him run awkwardly through the sand. She loved him. Wholeheartedly. There was no one else for her. They just fit so well, complimenting each other in a way that filled in where the other person lacked. Everything was perfect.

She didn't want to get ahead of herself but she sort of hoped there would be a ring with that bottle of champagne. It was their anniversary after all, they were in a gorgeous setting, it wasn't too outlandish a thought was it?

Butterflies fluttered inside her at the thought.

Suddenly it dawned on her that Johnny had given her his jacket. Had it been a rouse? Maybe there was a ring in the pocket waiting to be discovered. Quinn chuckled to herself, turned away from his view and plunged her hands into his left pocket. Was there anything in there?

No. Empty.

She shrugged off the threatening disappointment and then plunged her hand into the right pocket. There was something in this one, but it didn't feel like a velvet covered ring box. No, it was soft, maybe worn, but it felt more like a folded wad of paper. Quinn wrapped her fingers around it.

The paper wasn't a receipt. It wasn't folded half-hazard, the way she knew Johnny folded papers he wanted to keep. No, it was square. Perfectly square. It reminded Quinn of the way her and her girlfriends used to fold notes in school, so they could be discreetly passed during class.

The word "discreetly," sent a chill down her spine. The thought of someone giving him a note in a discreet way, a secret way, made her mouth suddenly feel like she wasn't on a chilly beach but rather in the middle of the Sahara Desert. She had to see it and She had to be quick, he would only be a moment.

Shaking, Quinn pulled the note out of the pocket.

It was a folded note. The message was written on notebook paper and it was quite worn. As if Johnny had read it over and over, devouring its contents. But the dagger in Quinn's back was the scribbled lettering on the front in purple, glittery, gel pen.

"To Johnny, love Sarah."

Quinn could hear him running back clumsily through the sand. She didn't care if he had a ring.

Quinn fell to her knees, becoming one with the crumbling sands around her. Johnny tried to help her up and begged her to tell him what was wrong, but it didn't matter. Everything was gone to Quinn now, her entire world had ended in just one minute.