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14
WYATT
It felt as if minutes had passed before the sun was peeking into my office and blazing into my eyes. I woke, covering my face and hissing at the sharp pain that moved through my head.
I hadn’t realized it, but I had drunk a bit too much a little too fast the night before. My mouth was dry, my throat burning, and my head pounded. I sat up, the pain getting even worse, and I gripped the sides of my head.
“Fuck,” I hissed.
My eyes moved to the large clock on the wall, taking in the time. Thankfully, it was still early. I had time to maybe sit and talk to Allison before heading in to work.
Tossing the throw from my body, I stood and made my way through the house and back toward our room. The house was quiet. Too quiet. When I entered our bedroom, the sun spilled into the windows, playing tricks with the shadows in the corners of the room. A single beam of light filtered through the large oak just outside the window, landing on the center of the bed and drawing my attention to that single spot.
The sheets were rumpled, the pillows tossed around the bed, but other than that, it was empty.
Moving into the room, I went to the bathroom and tapped on the door.
“Allison?”
When there was no response, I pushed the door open to find the bathroom empty. I moved to the large closet, thinking maybe she was in there getting dressed for the day, and again, the closet was empty. So empty, in fact, that her side of the closet was mostly cleaned out.
“What the fuck?”
I turned, going back into the bedroom where I left my phone on the side table beside the bed. I reached for my phone, and that was when I saw it.
A note.
Wyatt,
Sorry about last night, but I think I need time right now to think things through. Everything feels too weird. But don’t worry, I’m only going to have some fun in Paris. I need to let off some steam.
I hope you don’t mind, but Addy wanted me to drop off some paperwork for our dad. If I go by, I’ll miss my flight. Could you please take it to her?
Thanks!
Allison
Paris?
What the fuck?
A rush of anger roared through me like a freight train. It was so fast and hard; I heard the rushing of it in my ears.
I snatched my phone from the table and called her cell. It rang twice before I was sent straight to voicemail. She had declined my call.
Opening up my text app, I typed out a message to her and hit send.
Me: What are you doing? We need to talk.
Allison: We can talk when I get back. I shouldn’t be gone long. I just think we need some time to get back to our reality.
Our reality?
What the hell did that mean?
My brain swirled with emotions. She was giving me whiplash with her back and forth bullshit.
Me: Back to our reality? What reality is that?
