No answer.
I stalk through the house, bare feet pounding against the wood floor, my pulse thrumming like a live wire. The bathroom is empty. Kitchen, empty. Her mug is on thetable, her hair tie by the sink, but there’s a missing piece where she belongs.
My eyes fall on a piece of paper on the counter. I know before I even touch it that it’s hers. My hands shake as I read her messy handwriting.
Garrett,
Thank you so much for everything. These past couple of days spent with you were the best days of my life. I’m sorry I had to leave so quickly, but real-life calls, and I need to return to Charlotte. I will never forget you.
Please, remember me always.
Love, Annie.
Love. She said love.Does she love me?
But she’s gone, just left without saying goodbye. All I can do is stand here, stunned, and let the world spin right out from under me.
None of this makes any fucking sense. She was here…she was fucking here, in my arms, screaming my name, telling me she felt safe. Why would she just leave with nothing but a damn note? My hands curl into fists, balling the piece of paper up with them. All my anger and confusion get the best of me, and I lose it…letting it all go, holding nothing back.
I grab the mug and hurl it at the wall. It explodes, ceramic everywhere. I sweep my arm across the rest of the counter, not caring about the crash, about the coffee splattering everywhere. I slam my fist into one of the cabinet doors, again and again,until pain finally cuts through the numbness and blood smears across the wood.
“How could you do this to me?” I yell at the empty kitchen, chest heaving. “How could you fucking leave, Annie?”
I storm around the house, tearing through rooms as if she’s hiding somewhere, like me wanting her to be here so bad might make her appear. God, I’m such an idiot!
“Fuck!” I bellow, kicking the sectional so hard it slides across the floor, ignoring the throbbing pain that shoots through my bare foot.
I go and grab my phone, figuring out that’s pointless. I never got her number. Can’t call, can’t text, can’t even beg.
I call the inn. Savannah picks up on the third ring. “Mountain View Inn, this is Savannah.”
“It’s Garrett. Is Annie there?”
Pause.
I can see her chewing gum, scrolling on her phone, as she twirls that wild hair.
“Nope. She checked out before I came in. Didn’t even get her free muffin. You all right?” she asks, and I sense a genuine concern in her voice. “Is Annie okay?”
I clench my jaw so hard it hurts. “Why didn’t you call me?”
Savannah’s tone turns defensive. “Well, excuse me, Mr. Grumpy Pants. I didn’t know you were Annie’s gatekeeper now. You know what?—”
I hang up before saying something I’ll regret.
I pace the cabin, blood roaring in my ears. I look foranything that could be a clue to her whereabouts: a phone number, a hint, a damn receipt.
Then I spot it…a scrap of paper on the floor by the door. I pick it up and see a cell number and the number for The Cozy Corner, written in pink ink.
Aubrey.
I grab my keys and put on the first pair of boots I can find, not even bothering with the laces. And I’m out the door.
The drive to the diner is a blur. I’m white-knuckling the wheel the whole time, anger and fear raging with every mile.
When I get there, I quickly park before storming through the diner doors. So hard, the stupid little bell goes flying across the room. Heads turn. Forks freeze halfway to their mouths. And I don’t even give a shit.
Aubrey is behind the counter, pouring coffee; her eyes go wide when she sees me. “Garrett, what the hell?”
