The Bone Collector

7

Six months later - Miguel POV

"Have you heard anything new?" I asked Nestor as he stood quietly in the corner of my office.

He rolled his eyes at the question I asked almost everyday and shook his head. I felt another stab of guilt at hurting and losing Libitina. If I could go back in time and change how I handled everything, I would. My divorce with Emily had been finalised but Nestor never gave me enough details to find the woman who still consumed my thoughts.

"How do you know she's safe? When was the last time you spoke to her?" I fired my concerns at him.

"Mikey, I spoke to her last month and she was fine. She texts me once a week too so I know how she is." He said but his words didn't bring me any comfort, she should be home where she belongs.

"Do you think she would want to come back?" I asked hopeful and he glared back at me.

"This is her home, of course she would but I won't risk her life for you to get your rocks off. Emily has been a conniving, scheming bitch for the better part of a year now. I don't trust that she won't have Libi hurt, to spite you." He stated before leaving the room to cool off.

I opened my drawer and pulled out the book she had left me and ran my fingertips over the gilded title. I can still remember the night I found she was gone. The day had seemed like any other, both of us were busy with work so it wasn't uncommon not to call or text during the day. We both knew I would be at her house come evening time.

I was knocking on her door at 6pm after finding it locked. I figured she was running late but all my calls went to voicemail. Using the spare key she had left me, I let myself in and found the house empty. The furniture was gone, the canvas' that covered the walls, gone too. Every room was bare, her books in her room, gone.

I couldn't feel anything as I wandered through every room until I was back in the living room. A single item was on the kitchen bench and I picked it up. A photograph of the two of us laying on her bed, reading, looking more loving and peaceful than I thought could be captured in a photo. I missed the nights spent listening to her read to me, the lilt of her voice as she spoke the French words effortlessly in our favourite story.

I put the photograph down and saw the book hidden beneath it - The Count of Monte Cristo. This was her favourite book too, yet she left it here for me. I couldn't understand why until I opened the hard back cover and found a note with her perfect cursive writing. I felt my chest concave as if a sledgehammer had been smashed into me. I spun around as I heard the door close behind me, I hoped she had come back. She hadn't.

"She's gone." Nestor said as he walked across the room to me. "Emily hired a PI to follow you, she looked into Libitina."

He handed me a folder and I found it full of photos taken in this house, through these windows. I looked back at the photo of us she had left and knew Nestor had shown her these. She knew about Emily, her note made sense now. I had broken her trust, I had broken her.

"Where is she?" I asked angrily as I crumpled up the photo I held. "I need to fix this."

"You can't fix it! You fucked up and your wife is dangerous enough to get my little sister hurt or killed." He growled. "I'm not going to let that happen. She's safe, far away from here."

He dropped the folder on the floor and left, pictures of our precious moments scattered everywhere. I dropped to my knees gathering them up and tucking them back in the folder. These were all I had left of the moments I cherished most, when I could be myself not what was expected of me. As I sat on the floor in the echoing room I grabbed my phone and dialled my lawyer. This was something I should have done a long time ago.