Ana watched her phone. Nothing? Nothing? She assumed he'd call her the day after and say something like:
So I think we both know this wasn't gonna last long.
And he'd smirk, and announce she should be home soon, and then hang up. And if she didn't come, he'd come get her.
I've been watching you through your cameras on your phone.
Or,
I've been tracking Lia's iPad.
Something. But months went by. Months. One, then 3, then six. Then 9.
And he'd said nothing. Not a word. Not a text. Not a call, a voicemail, not a...a threatening letter, a lawyer saying he'd found a loophole and she was legally bound to him for life.
Nothing.
She stared at her phone. She wanted to check if he was alright. But she knew if she went to him he'd never let her leave. She had to keep going.
But...nothing? She'd even filed for divorce. Nothing. Absolutely nothing.
She clenched her jaw.
"Annika," she said softly, "Will you babysit Lia for a few hours?"
Annika nodded. "Of course mom."
She watched her mother get some things together.
"Are you...going to see him?"
Ana paused. "Just to check. Just to see."
"Okay," Annika smiled. "Will you uh...for me I mean?"
Ana smiled. "Yes. Of course I will."
• • •
Ana rolled up to their old house, finding the lawn overgrown. She frowned. Maybe he'd gotten busy with surgery then.
She kept the car running, trying her key. It still worked. She stepped in, looking around.
Everything seemed the same. She ventured upstairs. Everything seemed fine except...she looked at their old bedroom.
She cleared her throat, touching the gun she's brought. He'd probably try to keep her. She's just have to threaten her way out.
But she had to see. He probably was just in surgery, but something felt off. She knocked on the door.
Once. Twice. Then she opened it. It was pitch black. She frowned, stepping over something, cursing, as she fumbled for the light switch.
She turned it on, finding someone standing in front of her.
She jumped back, looking around. Containers of food. From...god knows how long, covered the floor.
She looked up, at this person. He stared back blankly, long hair greasy and unwashed, stubble unkempt, his blue eyes dull. Sickly pale, and thin. So thin. Almost emancipated.
"...Scott?"
He reached out, making her flinch back. He paused, before reaching out again, flicking the light off.
She heard him, rustling back into bed.
"Scott what is the meaning of this?" Ana asked, "Hey, where are the landscapers? And why is the room like this? Where's Helga? And why is dark? It's...2 in the afternoon."
He said nothing. She sighed, turning on the light again.
"Scott..." she whispered, she stepped over the mess, peeling back the covers. "What happened?"
He stared back at her blankly, as if he couldn't see her. He closed his eyes.
"Scott say something!" She shook him.
He stared past her, his eyes glued to the light switch. She sighed, getting up to turn it off, before sitting next to him.
He didn't move. Didn't speak. She sighed.
"I didn't know...how long have you been like this?"
Morgana thought, he reminded her of when they first met. That look if blankness. As if he were somewhere else. The silence. That look.
It was like in the hospital.
"Scott...let's leave. You don't have stay in this room. Just because we aren't married doesn't mean you're alone."
He didn't react, and she realized it was because he wasn't here. Scott had done what he did when things couldn't go the way he wanted.
His last resort.
He'd dissociated, and let himself get lost in the dream. Hallucinating a world where things were what he wanted.
Where he could have it all.
She sighed, standing. "I'll be back."
