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I call her cell, but it just rings and rings. I try again and again. Five unanswered calls. My heart picks up pace as I glance around. This doesn’t make any sense. She has to be here. But my car isn’t here and Leo isn’t in the house. Where the fuck is Mere, the dog, and my car? Where would they be at this time of night?
She wouldn’t have picked up and left.
Not with everything finally going right with us. Not out of the blue. Not when she’s going to marry me. Not when she’s chosen me. She has to be somewhere around here, but I can’t think of a single place she would go at this time of night. She wouldn’t have left to meet me at the bar. I mean, I told her which one, but she wouldn’t have left without telling me and she wouldn’t have taken Leo.
So, where in the hell is she?
This doesn’t make any sense.
Something must be wrong.
That’s the only explanation.
My heart aches from its ridiculously fast beating as I realize that’s the only answer. Something is wrong.
“Mere?” I call out, hoping I’m just somehow missing her and that my car is parked in another space.
Nothing.
Desperate, I call Erica. Maybe they’re running extremely late, but that still doesn’t explain where Leo is.
“Noah?” she answers with hesitance. Can’t say I blame her. I was a little on the hateful side the last time we spoke when Meredith and I went to confront her about giving our address to Vance.
“Yeah. Have you seen Meredith?”
“Um, no,” she starts. “Not since she left once we got back from the game.” She pauses. “Is everything okay?”
“No!” I shout, my anxiety officially taking over. “She’s not here. The dog isn’t here. My car isn’t here. Her phone is going to voicemail. I can’t fucking find her. Did she say anything to you about where she was going?”
“Not really.”
“Fuck,” I mutter. She’s no help at all!
“Wait. She did say something about wanting a milkshake. Maybe she’s just out to get one. I’m sure everything is fine, Noah.” If I wasn’t stressed and freaked the hell out, I would think about how odd it is that my ex-girlfriend is reassuring me about my fiancée.
“No,” I say with a shake of my head even though she can’t see me. “Something is wrong.” I can feel it in my gut. If she was just out for a milkshake, then why isn’t she answering the phone? “I gotta go.” I don’t know what I’m going to do now, or how I’m going to find her, but talking to Erica isn’t getting anything accomplished.
I’m about to hang up when I hear, “Ah, Noah?”
“What?” I snap, annoyed that she’s wanting to continue the conversation when she obviously doesn’t have any helpful information.
“Try the hospital,” she says quietly. I immediately feel lightheaded and weak. Why the fuck would she say that? Does she actually know what happened to Meredith? Did she do something to Meredith? “The news just came on, and there’s been a ten-car pile-up. I can see the cars behind the reporter. One of them looks like yours.”
“Are you sure?” I rasp.
“It might not be, but it might be.” She goes on to say which hospital the reporter is saying the people involved are going to.
I hang up as soon as she’s finished saying it and try calling Meredith again. I keep calling while I head to the hospital. It can’t be her. But she wouldn’t have left either. All of her things are still at the apartment, too. I’m pulling into the parking lot when someone answers.
“Hello?” a man answers.
“Where’s Meredith?” I demand.
“Who is this?”
“I’m her fiancé; now where the fuck is she?” Who has time for any fucking question other than where is she?
“Sir, please calm down. My name is John Graham, and I’m a nurse.” He keeps talking but I don’t hear anything. Erica did see my car. Oh my god.
