And just before she hangs up, I manage to say the words I’ve been meaning to tell her all day. “I miss you, baby. I can’t wait to get back to you.”
“I miss you too... More than I can explain,” she says softly, just before the line goes quiet, signalling the end of our call.
CHAPTER 35
Mila
Jason never called.
I stayed up and waited for hours, eyes heavy, heart heavier—hoping to hear something from him, even as the clock slipped well past midnight. But there was only silence. Not even a simple goodnight text. I tried to weave excuses to soften the blow. Maybe he was exhausted and fell asleep. Maybe something unexpected came up. Maybe he lost his phone. The list was endless, but no matter how many reasons I came up with, none of them eased the dull ache that settled deep in my chest.
Now, here I am—still waiting, still hoping—as the day drags on under a cold, grey sky that seems to perfectly echo my mood. My eyes have been glued to my phone all morning and well into the afternoon, waiting for a subtle buzz, a flash of light, something, anything, to show he’d reached out. But there’s nothing. Just complete and absolute silence. Half the day has slipped by, and still not a single damn word.
I’ve left several texts and voice messages on his phone, all the while trying to convince myself he’s probably just sleeping in. But Tokyo in August is only an hour behind Sydney, so it should be around 2:30 p.m. there by now. And Jason? He’s never been one to sleep the day away. I keep telling myself there’s a perfectly valid reason, and that I’m just overthinking things. But the silence is starting to really unsettle me. The ache in my chest tightens and anxiety begins to creep in, slow and sharp.Something doesn’t feel right. Jason always checks in with me. Always.
I try to push all thoughts and feelings aside, telling myself it’s probably nothing. I’ll give it a few more hours, and if I still haven’t heard from him by then, I’ll know something’s seriously wrong. Jason would never ignore me. Not on purpose. I’ll just call Chris, his bar manager. Or his dad. Someone has to know what the hell is going on.
For now, I need a distraction—anything to keep me from sitting at home, texting him over and over like some overbearing girlfriend, worrying herself sick. Once I manage to catch my breath, I text Sofia to see if she’ll meet me for dinner tonight—something to look forward to after I tackle the long list of chores I’ve been putting off for most of the day.
But even as I move through each tedious task, one by one, it’s not enough to quiet my thoughts or distract me from the heavy weight of his silence.
It’s 7:30 p.m. on a Saturday night, and I’m tucked away in a dim, stuffy corner of a pub with Sofia, sipping her beer and picking at a bowl of soggy, overly seasoned potato wedges. I’m already questioning whether eating out was even worth it at all.
The pub is quickly filling with loud, intoxicated patrons who couldn’t care less that the whole damn room can hear their conversations, or their cringeworthy attempts to hook up. It’s not even eight o’clock, and I’m already fighting the urge to grab Sofia and call it a night. But as tempting as that sounds, I doubt I’d be in a better position at home with nothing to do but watch the clock tick by and hope that I finally hear from Jason.
Just before I left to meet with Sofia, I decided to check Jason’s social media one last time, hoping to find some clue about where he might be.His last post were photos of him and Jake from their first day at Disneyland, shared yesterday—right after he called me from his hotel. Since then, there’s been no new updates.
I don’t know what compelled me to click on Elena’s profile—curiosity, instinct, or something I didn’t want to name. But the next thing I knew, I was scrolling through her feed, silently thankful she hadn’t made it private. And that’s when I saw them—twenty new photos posted almost two hours prior. Her. Jake. Jason. During their second trip to Disneyland. Smiling and laughing like the most picture-perfect family.
Each photo felt more intimate than the last, like I was flipping through their private family album. In some, Jason had his arm wrapped around both Elena and Jake, smiling. Not the forced kind of smile you put on for show, but the kind that reaches your eyes—the kind I thought was reserved for whenever he was with me. And the way he was looking at the camera, like he was happy—genuinelyhappy. Like he was exactly where he wanted to be.
At that point, I saw everything I needed to. Jason wasn’t just spending time with Jake—he was enjoying being with Elena too. And instead of facing me, instead of admitting it, he’d taken the coward’s way out. He disappeared. Shut me out completely. Probably figured silence was easier than the guilt.
Fuming, I hurled my phone across my bedroom, landing on the carpet with a heavy thud. Then came the flood of angry thoughts, each one stoking the fire already burning inside me.How dare he ignore me to play the devoted family man with his ex. How dare he lead me on—make me believe I still mattered—only to crush me like this. How fucking dare he.
With white-hot anger coursing through my veins, I grabbed my phone and purse and stormed out of the house. The drive to the pub was a blur, too fast to recall clearly, and I’m almost certain a few speeding fines will be waiting for me in the mail in the coming weeks.
An hour and a half later, having nearly finished a whole jug of beer on my own, the anger hasn’t lifted. Instead, it’s just settled quietly in the background.
“Why don’t you just DM Elena and ask what’s going on with him?” Sofia asks, snapping me out of my haze.
I drop the greasy potato wedge I’ve been absentmindedly picking at for the past ten minutes back into the bowl and look up at my best friend like she’s lost her damn mind.
“That’s the worst idea, Sof. She’s exactly the type to twist the truth or leave things out just to revel in my misery. I’d rather never hear from Jason again than reach out to Elena.”
“Yeah, you’re right. She’s such a conniving bitch!” she says venomously. “So what are you going to do then? You can’t just stare at your phone every two seconds, hoping to hear from him.”
“Oh, trust me, I know that.” I pause, the bitterness rising in my throat. “I’m thinking of switching off my phone for the night and leaving it buried in my bag… just so I’m not tempted to text him again.” I force a shrug. “Out of sight, out of mind, right?” But even as I say it, I know it’s a lie.
Just then, my phone buzzes. Both Sofia and I snap our eyes to where it lies face down on the table. For a moment, the air stills. Our gazes meet, and I can tell she’s just as anxious as I am. I flip it over, heart thudding. The screen lights up and my face instantly drops.
Not Jason.
It’s a text from my mum, proudly announcing she won $38.60 on Thursday’s lotto.
Dammit, Mum!
I shake my head as I switch off my phone and drop it into my purse. The disappointment must be written all over my face, because Sofia reaches out and gives my hand a quick gentle squeeze.
