23. A Picture Is Worth…

Aella

I wake up, stretching and rubbing my eyes, still half in that fuzzy dream state. The sun’s creeping through the curtains, laying warm stripes across the bed. I roll over, feeling strangely content; the kind of happiness that leaves you suspicious because life has taught you that too much of a good thing is often followed by a crash … that’s when I realize something.

Jay’s not here.

The pillows are still dented from his head, and it hits me like a small punch to the gut; he’s gone.

I sit up in bed with a frown on my face, then I grab my cellphone to see if he’s left a message. The relief that floods through me makes me feel uneasy, because there’s a message from him.

[“Ella, something came up, and emergency. I’ll explain later. I didn’t want to wake you, you looked peaceful. — Jay"]

Emergency? My gut clenches, the word heavy with a thousand what-ifs. What kind of emergency pulls a guy away at dawn without so much as a whispered goodbye? I shake my head, clearing away the unease.