The Virgin

Jasmine 

It was a fateful Monday morning, the kind Jasmine had always dreaded. Rain poured in relentless sheets, soaking her clothes as she trudged along the street. No one noticed her tears; they mingled with the rainwater streaming down her face, invisible to the world. Her mind was blank, her heart numb. The world felt meaningless, shattered beyond repair. She wandered aimlessly, her steps heavy, her soul adrift in a storm that mirrored her despair.

Jasmine had always hated Mondays. They marked the start of a grueling workweek, filled with her supervisor’s nagging about deadlines and sales targets. But this Monday was different. She wasn’t at work. She had taken the day off to distribute wedding invitations, her heart once light with the promise of a new life with Ken, her fiancé. Their wedding was set for the coming weekend. Now, that dream lay in ruins, and she didn’t know how to piece it together again.

Three years ago, when she and Ken began their relationship, Jasmine had set a firm rule: no sex until marriage. Ken had respected her choice, waiting patiently, their love growing stronger with each shared moment. But today, under the heavy downpour, she walked without direction, knowing deep down it was over. Ken would never believe her story. He would never take her back. Not after what had happened.

Her aimless steps led her to the Third Mainland Bridge, its long expanse stretching over the dark, churning lagoon below. She stopped, her breath catching as she stared into the water. The rain stung her skin, but the pain in her heart was sharper. She climbed over the rail, her hands trembling as she gripped the cold metal. There was no going back. The hurt was too fresh, too raw. She was too far gone.

Ken, a rising star at one of the country’s top media stations, thrived in the fast-paced world of news presenting. Smart and ambitious, he knew how to navigate the cutthroat industry, where social media had turned every smartphone user into a potential reporter. Authentic, firsthand reports were hard to come by, and Ken prided himself on staying ahead of the curve.

That Monday morning, he was on duty, monitoring updates about the Third Mainland Bridge. The federal government had announced partial closures for repairs, and Ken’s team was covering the story live. As he sat in the studio, scanning feeds from reporters on the ground, his heart stopped. A familiar figure flashed across the screen—a woman standing on the bridge’s rail, rain-soaked and teetering on the edge.

“Breaking news,” the reporter’s voice crackled through the feed. “We’re witnessing a distressing scene here. Under this heavy rain, a woman is about to jump into the lagoon. Her reasons are unknown. This is Jason reporting live from the Third Mainland Bridge.”

Ken’s blood ran cold. It was Jasmine. He grabbed his phone and dialed Jason, his colleague on the scene. The call connected on the second ring.

“Jason, it’s Ken. Stop her! That’s Jasmine—my fiancée. We’re getting married this weekend. I don’t know what’s going on, but please, stop her!”

“Ken, are you sure?” Jason’s voice was skeptical. “It could be anyone.”

“It’s her, man. I’d know her anywhere. I’m on my way—please, do something!”

“I’ll try, but you’d better hurry. She looks like she’s made up her mind.”

On the bridge, Jasmine barely registered the world around her. The rain roared in her ears, and the lagoon below seemed to call her name. Then, faintly, she heard someone shout.

“Jasmine!”

She froze, unsure if she’d imagined it. Who would know her here? Turning, she saw a man approaching cautiously, a camera crew trailing behind him. Her heart sank. She’d already climbed the rail. Her decision was made.

“Jasmine, I’m Jason,” the man called, his voice steady despite the rain. “I work with Ken. You’re engaged to him, right? Your wedding’s this weekend. Why are you doing this? Have you thought about how Ken will feel?”

“Leave me alone,” Jasmine choked out, her voice breaking. “He’ll understand. He’ll move on.”

“How can he understand if you don’t tell him?” Jason pressed, stepping closer. “Did you call him? Leave a note? Anything?”

Jasmine hesitated, her grip tightening on the rail. “I can’t tell him. He’ll reject me. It’ll hurt more than this.”

“Ken’s on his way,” Jason said gently. “He’s running to you right now. Just hold on. You know me, right? Jason, the guy with the twin brother. Ken’s told you about me.”

Jasmine’s eyes flicked to him, a flicker of recognition cutting through her haze. “Yeah,” she whispered. “The twin.”

“Exactly. Now look to your right. Ken’s coming.”

She turned, and there he was—Ken, running through the rain, his face a mask of desperation. Her heart lurched. She loved him so fiercely, but the weight of her shame crushed her. He’d waited three years for her, and now it was all for nothing.

Ken’s world was unraveling. He shoved through the crowd, heedless of the rain or the people he pushed aside. If Jasmine jumped, he’d be a shell of himself, a walking corpse. He couldn’t lose her. When he reached the bridge and saw her perched on the rail, their eyes locked. His chest heaved, breathless from the run, but he steadied himself and approached.

“Jasmine, please,” he called, his voice trembling. “Don’t do this.”

“Stay back, Ken!” she shouted, her voice raw. “I’ll jump if you come closer!”

“Jas, please,” he begged, stopping in his tracks. “I love you. I can’t live without you. Whatever it is, we can fix it.”

“It’s not about you,” she sobbed. “It’s me. My mistake. I’m sorry.”

“What mistake?” Ken’s voice cracked. “Talk to me, babe. What happened?”

Jasmine’s tears mixed with the rain. “I’m not a virgin anymore, Ken. I was raped. While I was distributing our wedding invitations. I went to Mary’s place to drop off a card. She gave me water, and then… I woke up, and it was done. She was gone. I don’t know how it happened, but I’m ruined.”

Ken’s heart shattered, not for himself, but for her pain. He took a cautious step forward, but Jasmine raised a hand.

“Stop! Don’t come closer. You’ve waited three years, and it’s all gone. Just let me go.”

“No,” Ken said firmly. “I don’t care about that. I love you, Jas. I promised to marry you, and I still will. Right here, right now, if you want. Please, come back.”

Jasmine wavered, her eyes searching his. Slowly, she started to climb back over the rail, but her foot slipped on the wet metal. She gasped, losing her balance. Ken lunged forward, catching her hand just as she began to fall. The crowd surged closer, their hands joining his to pull her to safety.

As they collapsed onto the bridge, rain soaking them both, Ken held her tightly. “Jas, I have a confession,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “And I hope you can forgive me.”

She looked up at him, exhausted and broken. “What is it?”

“Promise you’ll hear me out.”

“I promise,” she whispered, her voice hollow.

Ken swallowed hard. “This is my fault. I… I had an affair with Mary, years ago. She was a virgin too. I promised to marry her, but I didn’t. She had a son, and I told her to abort him. She never forgave me. I think… I think she did this to you to hurt me.”

Jasmine’s eyes widened, betrayal cutting through her grief. “Mary? My best friend? How could you, Ken?”

“I’m so sorry,” he pleaded. “I was a coward. I didn’t know she’d go this far. Please, Jas, you promised we’d stay together.”

Jasmine pulled away, her heart torn between love and rage. “Don’t call my name,” she said, her voice cold. “I need to think. I don’t know if I can forgive you.”

As the rain continued to fall, Jasmine stood, her future uncertain, her heart heavy with the weight of two betrayals.