Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 32760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 32760 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 164(@200wpm)___ 131(@250wpm)___ 109(@300wpm)
Instantly, every part of me goes tight, and a knot begins to form in my stomach.
I already know what happened.
I rush from the room and down the hallway to the stairwell. I’m taking them two at a time as my phone buzzes in my pocket.
You’re a liar. I saw you with her.
My heartrate skyrockets.
Just like I thought.
Without even slowing down, I text her back. I know by now that when she gets like this, she won’t answer if I call.
I told you, baby, she works for me. I had to sign things.
I vault down the last six steps, land on the floor, and shoulder my way out the door and into the hall and sprint for the exit.
The sun is starting its descent, and a light rain has started to fall while we were inside celebrating. My eyes scan the parking lot for her, but I see nothing.
My phone buzzes in my hands.
You’re lying. You’re fucking her! I know it!
This isn’t happening. Not after all this progress!
No, baby. You know I’m not! You don’t believe that.
I send the reply and race through the lot to where she parked her car. As I come around the corner of the lanes, I can already see hers is gone. I’m just about to turn and race for mine, but then something at my feet catches my eye.
It glimmers, catching the remaining daylight just right.
I reach down to pick it up and see it’s Jenny’s necklace–the one I just gave her for her birthday–only the clasp is broken. She must have torn it off her neck and thrown it down before she got into her car.
I kneel and pick it up, staring at the heart in my hand. The image shakes me, but I only have a moment before my phone buzzes again. I check it immediately.
You never loved me! You were just pretending all along! Goodbye!
I sprint for my car, and although I know she isn’t going to answer, I call her.
It goes straight to voicemail as I’d expected.
Baby stop this! Stop breathe and think. Calm down. I love you. You know that!
I text back as I climb into my car and floor it.
I speed home first, my heart racing, stomach knotting. I keep glancing at my phone, waiting for the response text to arrive, but it never does.
Seven minutes later, I pull into the driveway, but her car isn’t there. I immediately back out and call her dad, informing him of the situation. I don’t even know what to say to him–where to look for her or how to track her down–but I let him know that I’m headed by her old apartment next, and he says he’s going to call the police and see if they can do something about tracking her phone.
I’m like a racecar driver as I blaze through the roads as the rain picks up and the sun falls down over the horizon.
Two months of improvement to be hit by this.
And she was doing so well.
Five-minutes later, I’m at her apartment. But again, there’s no sign of her car.
“Fuck!” I scream, slamming my fist against my thigh, sending a dull pain up my leg that momentarily distracts me from the feeling of desperate futility threatening to overwhelm me.
There’s only one other place that she could be…
And I don’t want to believe it…
I whip my steering wheel and drive the pedal to the floor. The car spins around, and I zoom off into the night.
The bridge is my new and final destination.
Please don’t be there, Jenny. Please, don’t.
My palms are sweating, and my fingers aching as I grip the steering wheel hard, taking turns at twice the speed at which they should be taken.
I reach down for my phone and dial her number again, but it just rings and rings and rings.
“Come on, Jenny, goddamn it!”
I’m about to have a heart attack as I drive with everything I have inside me.
I’ve less than two minutes to the bridge now, and every terrible thought I have is racing through my mind–every horrible vision and image is assaulting me like an onslaught of toxicity that I can do nothing to defend myself against.
Deep breathing doesn’t help.
Focusing on other memories doesn’t help.
Telling myself she’ll be okay doesn’t help.
Absolutely nothing helps.
I see the red lights first, flickering against the tree leaves and reflecting in the wet pavement and pools of water that have collected on the sides of the road.
And then I round the corner and see them: emergency vehicles. An ambulance, two cop cars at least with their lights flashing.
And beside them on the side of the road, Jenny’s car.
My heart cracks and the pain fills me.
“No…”
I screech to a halt behind them and leap out. There are men on the bridge, and two cops turn and see me as I sprint toward them. They snatch me up like a couple of linebackers, stopping me from passing. I struggle to push past them, my whole body feeling as though it were on fire.