She doesn’t joke or smile at anyone either.
It’s like someone turned off the lights inside her.
I’m supposed to be satisfied with that. Her, being a wallflower here, with the jerk of a brother waiting for her at home. She should be more willing—and soon—to pull away from all this if that’s the case.
Nothing about this feels even remotely good. Sadness overtakes me, leaving a bitter taste in my mouth.
Without friends, here or at Cobbledale, according to my PI, she could use someone on her side.
That someone was supposed to be me. She should’ve been my wife, and she isn’t.
Thought you didn’t want her as your wife anymore.
You bet your ass I don’t, I answer the taunting voice in my head.
I hate it. Whenever it starts blabbering, I’m reminded of what a fool I’d been. A delusional one.
All the smiles, the attention, the promises—lies.
When it mattered most, she didn’t choose me.
“Look how well that panned out for you,” I mutter.
“You say something?” a teenage boy asks. His green eyes are red-rimmed, his brown hair slick with grease. “Need help?”
“No.” My voice is low to avoid detection.
“You sure? I can get a nurse. There’s one over at my dad’s room right now. It’ll just take a minute, and…” he keeps rambling, talking loudly.
A woman across the hall glances up from her magazine, squinting in our direction.
The next pair of eyes could be Elowyn’s.
If she spots me now, she’ll start connecting the dots. The invitation, the timing, my sudden reappearance. It’ll be too much to be a coincidence.
Unacceptable.
When we finally meet, it’ll be on my terms. I can’t lose my leverage. The mystery. The fear of the unknown that I’ll instill in her heart.
That’s the plan, anyway. Problem is, this kid—this well-meaning idiot—is about to ruin everything.
“I’m fine,” I cut in, then walk off before anyone else can look too closely.
My feet aim for the exit, and I almost make it there.
Almost.
Something inside me turns the wheel. An infuriatingly insistent force, the kind that’s lived in my bones since I was seventeen, nudges me down a different hallway.
By the time I realize where I’m heading, I’m already halfway to the staff locker rooms.
Her locker number, her code, my PI dug them up a couple of weeks ago. I memorized both, even as I told myself I wouldn’t need them. That the next time I saw her would be in my home.
Good thing I did, because here I fucking am, staring at the door to the locker room.
The handle is loose from overuse. At least it doesn’t squeak when I swipe the keycard my PI duplicated for me.
A quick sweep of the space confirms it’s empty. I take that as my cue to step inside and start looking for her locker.
