Cherished (Wanted 4)

“Oh my god, Jessie! Thank God. Oh, baby, we’ve been worried sick. Scott is about to go crazy. Jessie, why?”

“Daddy, I can’t talk long. I’m in Belize, and we are being hit with a tropical storm.”

“Jessie, you’re going in and out. I think you said you’re in a tropical storm? Baby, where are you?”

“Belize. Dad, I called Scott, but his phone went to voice mail.”

“Jessie, I’m only getting a few words here and there, but if you can hear me…baby, it wasn’t Scott who was with Chelsea. It was Bryce, Scott’s brother. Baby girl, Scott didn’t cheat on you. God, Jessie, can you hear me? Jess, have you met someone new? Scott is not doing very well after your postcard.”

I almost dropped the phone. I knew it. I knew deep in my heart that he would never hurt me. “Daddy, I hear you! I hear you. Please tell him to call me. I’m at the—”

Then, I heard a beep. I pulled the phone away from my ear and looked at the screen.

No service.

I slowly handed the phone back to the front desk clerk.

“The signal is gone,” I whispered.

“Ah…Miss Rhodes, I think you better sit down. You don’t look so good.”

I glanced up and noticed her name was…Chelsea.

Oh god…I think I’m going to get sick. “I feel sick.”

Chelsea ran and grabbed a small trash bin. She held it as I started puking into it. Then, the dry heaves began.

“Ugh…I’m so sorry, Chelsea. I’ve been feeling so bad the last few weeks. I’m not sure what it is.”

She smiled and sat down. “It’s okay. I just hope you are not getting the flu or something.”

I nodded and tried to remember what my father had said.

Baby, it wasn’t Scott who was with Chelsea. Jess, have you met someone new? Scott is not doing very well after your postcard.

Why in the world did he ask me if I’ve met someone new? What did my postcard have to do with—

I threw my hands up to my mouth. Chelsea jumped back up and grabbed the trash can.

What did I write? Oh god…did I write about meeting someone new?

“Oh my Lord, Miss Rhodes, you don’t look so good. Should I get a doctor?”

I stood up and started pacing. Think, Jessie! Think! What did you write?

I told him I was fine…I’d call…

Oh. My. God.

I told him I’d met a friend…and he was helping me get over Scott.

“No…oh no! No! No! Oh my god, what did I do?”

Then, I thought about my dream.

You left him. You killed him.

I heard Trey asking Chelsea if everything was okay.