The Unwifed Circle
Chapter 1: The Unchosen Ones
By Kenniesha Burrell
The Night That Changed Everything
Kingston Harbour was breathtaking under the night sky. Fairy lights draped across the rooftop swayed gently in the warm breeze, their glow dancing across champagne flutes and sequined dresses. The air was rich with the scent of hibiscus and sea salt, carrying that particular hum only the city could make music, laughter, the soft hiss of waves below.
I told myself this was just another Friday celebration, another night where The Circle showed up for someone’s “big moment.” But the second she walked in, I knew this night would brand itself into memory.
The bride-to-be wasn’t one of us. She was someone we all knew… but never thought would be the first to get the ring. And yet, there she was in a dress that seemed to drink the light, hand outstretched so the diamond could catch every camera in the room.
For a long moment, none of us spoke. We just stood there, five women in heels and history, watching someone else live the ending we’d been taught to wait for.
Zariah, The Backbone, looked like she’d swallowed her emotions whole and locked them somewhere no one could find. She had mastered the art of being unshaken, but I saw the tiny pulse flicker in her jaw. Years of being everyone’s safe harbor, and yet no one had ever anchored themselves to her.
Mahalia, The Flame, leaned against the bar with the confidence of a queen surveying her court. But her laugh came sharp, too quick. “Life is funny,” she murmured, eyes fixed on the ring. I could tell she was replaying the moments she’d been told she was “too much.”
Avina, The Healer, stood with her hands folded, her energy calm but her thoughts miles away. She had been the lighthouse in too many storms guiding men safely back to themselves, only to watch them sail into someone else’s sunset.
Raine, The Rebel, smirked in that way she did when the truth was too bitter to swallow. She had built businesses from nothing, survived betrayal, raised a son on her own but no man had ever chosen to be her forever.
Kai, The Romantic, blinked too much, like her eyes needed to stay dry. She had planned thirty-seven weddings, down to the second the couple kissed… and not one of them was hers. She knew the rhythm of a love story, but somehow, hers never made it past the intro.
The Balcony
We didn’t mean to leave the party together it just happened. A silent migration to the hotel’s highest balcony, where Kingston’s lights stretched endlessly into the dark.
For a while, no one said a thing. Just the wind in our hair, the faint thump of bass from below. Then Zariah spoke, her voice low but certain.
“We’ve been waiting for men to choose us for too long. Maybe it’s time we choose ourselves.”
Mahalia tilted her head, her gold hoops glinting. “So, what? We just… give up?”
“No,” Zariah said, meeting each of our eyes. “We stop waiting for someone else to write our ending.”
Avina nodded slowly, but her brow furrowed. “Easier said than done. Hearts don’t always listen to logic.”
Raine tapped her nails against the railing. “Mine’s been listening just fine. It’s my trust that’s the problem.”
Kai’s voice was almost a whisper. “And what if we’ve already missed our chance?”
Her question lingered in the air, heavier than the night itself. None of us answered right away. Maybe because we didn’t know.
The Stranger
The balcony doors opened, letting in a rush of warm air from inside and then he stepped out.
He wasn’t just tall. He carried himself like someone who had seen too much and learned how to keep secrets. A dark suit, a subtle watch, and eyes that didn’t just look at you, they read you.
He paused, scanning us like we were faces in a story he already knew. And then, in a voice smooth but edged with something unnameable, he said:
“Funny. I’ve seen you all before.”
We exchanged glances. None of us had met him. But there was something in his tone almost like he was telling us we were part of a game we didn’t know we’d been playing.
Before anyone could ask who he was, he smiled, just enough to be unsettling.
“Some circles are harder to break than others.”
And then he walked away.
The Questions We Didn’t Ask
We stood there, silent, the sound of his words wrapping themselves around us like vines.
Had he been watching us?
Did he know something we didn’t?
And why did it feel like… whatever was coming next wasn’t going to wait for us to be ready?
That night, The Unwifed Circle made a pact. But looking back, I think the pact might have been the very thing that would test us and maybe, break us.
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