Damien
“Fuck!” I bellow, tossing the glass of scotch in my hand across the room. It hits the wall and shatters to pieces.
I was losing my mind. Where the fuck was she? I’ve been looking all over for her the last few days but came up with nothing. I sat waiting outside her parent's place, hoping she would go by there, but she didn’t. I’ve checked all the fucking hotels and hospitals in New York. Her phone has been off for days.
I sit on the sofa and pick up the note she left me along with her wedding ring and read it for the millionth time. I recall waking up and finding her gone that day.
Three days ago.
I jump awake when Coco leaps on the bed and starts barking and growling. Immediately I reach for my gun, thinking someone is breaking into the apartment, and notice it was gone. Instead, there was a note and a wedding ring on the nightstand. I look to the other side of the bed—it’s empty. I push the covers off and pick up the note and ring and read it.
‘I can’t do this anymore. I’ve given all I have, and I’m tired. Goodbye Damien.’
No. No fucking way.
Coco barks again. I pull on a pair of jeans and run out of the bedroom toward the front door. Grabbing the keycard, I almost tear it open and run down the corridor toward the elevators. I push the button frantically. “Come on...come on!” I punch the wall and run down the corridor toward the stairs. I race down, taking two steps at a time until I hit the ground floor. I yank the door open and run into the lobby, my eyes frantically searching for her. I hurry over to Gilbert, who stands when he sees me.
“Mr. Wol—”
“Where is she?!” I demand, and he jumps and looks at me, startled. “When did she leave?!” He blinks and stammers. “TALK!” I pound my fist against the desk, and he leaps back.
“S-she just left.” He whispers, pointing at the entrance. I run to the main entrance and push the glass door open and look around. “Ezra!” I call out and see the taillights of a cab leaving the complex. “EZRA!” I yell as loud as my lungs would allow. The car disappears out of sight. She’s gone. I run my fingers through my hair and close my eyes. “FUCK!” I sink on the curb and stare at her ring sitting in my palm. I knew this day would come. Though I pushed her to this, I was not too fond of the idea of her out there alone. She’s got my gun which worries me even more. The very brief lesson I gave her on using a gun wouldn’t be enough to keep her safe. She’s vulnerable out there by herself. She’s going to get herself fucking killed.
This is what you wanted all along—she’s gone. Problem solved. You can now go back to your life before you met her.
I thought that’s what I wanted. I thought I could switch off these feelings and continue like I never met her once this was all over. But I can’t. All these feelings I’ve denied this whole time hit me like a fucking tidal wave, and I felt like I was drowning slowly from the inside out.
The last time I recall shedding a tear was when my parents died. I thought that part of me had died long ago…until today when a single tear trails down my cheek. I swipe it away angrily and get up. One last glance back at the road where the car disappeared, and I walk back inside.
“Mr. Wolfe, I’m so sorry she told me you were aware that she was leaving otherwise, I would have—”
“I want an address of wherever the driver took her,” I tell him grimly as I walk to the elevator.
“But—”
“FIND IT!” I growl hotly, glaring murderously at Gilbert, and he drops his gaze and nods quickly.
“Y-yes s-sir.” I walk into the elevator, push the button to my floor, and go back to my empty apartment. The moment I walk in, I feel an insufferable ache in my chest. I walk to the living room and pick up my cell phone off the coffee table. Coco comes over to me and whines when I sit on the sofa, and she lays her head on my lap. I dial Ezra’s number and hold my breath, hoping and praying she answers. After a couple of rings, it goes straight to her voicemail. I sigh and dial again, but she keeps declining the call. So, I text her.
No reply.
I call again, and it goes straight to her voicemail—she’s turned her phone off. I pace the apartment, trying her cell repeatedly, leaving messages sending texts waiting for her to call me or reply. Over the three days that she’s been gone, I haven’t slept a wink. I’ve spent countless hours looking everywhere for her and got nothing. It’s like she’s disappeared.
Present…
I walk around the apartment aimlessly, waiting for a call from Jasper, who was tracing her phone. I’ve made a fucking mess of everything. I wanted her gone, and she’s gone. I’ve given her no reason to fucking stay. All I ever gave her was excuses of why we couldn’t be together when really, it’s all I wanted. I wasn’t lying when I told her that when I picture myself happy—it’s with her by my side. I could spend the rest of my life with her and die an incredibly happy man.
She’s broken down all my defenses and wormed her way into my heart, and now I can’t seem to function without her. I feel like a broken man walking around without a soul.
My phone buzzes on the coffee table. I snatch it up and read the message sent from Jasper. He’s found her. She’s still in Manhattan. I feel a flood of relief wash over me. I jump in the shower and get dressed before I tear out of the apartment and make my way to the address Jasper has given me.
* * *
Twenty minutes later,I was sat outside an apartment complex. West on 81st Street. Who the fuck lives here? I sat out there for hours, patiently watching until I got my answer. Of course—Jordin—her best friend. I jump out of the car as she walks to the building with shopping bags in her hands and follows her inside. She walks over to the elevator and waits for it, completely oblivious to her surroundings. I wait till she walks in, and just as the doors are about the close, I slip in and take off my shades. The doors close behind me, and the elevator starts to move before I push the stop button on the elevator. She gasps and looks up at me, startled. “Damien.”
“Where is she?” I ask sternly, and Jordin blinks and shakes her head.
“What? Where is who?” She stammers, feigning ignorance. I sigh in annoyance and take a step toward her. She retreats.