Athena

63. Gone

Cruz is gone.

I can't believe he really left me.

For a while, I'm simply numb. Detached from reality. I don't know how long I lay there in bed. My thoughts are a mess, so I turn them off and try to focus on the nothingness. On breathing. Just breathing. Nothing more.

I can't handle anything else right now.

Eventually, I roll over to pick up my phone. I need a distraction from the emotions threatening to spill over and drown me. I swipe through TikToks for a while. I watch some reels on Instagram.

Then, I remember Suzie's unread email. Dread sinks in.

Fuck.

Do I want to deal with that shit right now?

Not really.

But curiosity gets the better of me, and I end up clicking on my inbox.

***

From: william_eyelash_stan@yahoo.com

To: goddessbish@gmail.com

Subject: Re: Re: Re: Re: Brody Carlisle

You asked for my opinion. I'd rather meet in person to tell you. When are you free?

***

Suzie's unexpected request jolts me from my fog of depression. It sends me to the edge of a cliff, nudging me toward freefall. A monster's waiting for us at the bottom of the drop. A monster named Brody. I want to back away from the edge and scramble to safety.

But I'm also dying to hear what Suzie has to say.

What the hell does Suzie want from me?

I guess there's only one way to find out: I have to go back to Scottsdale.

This one decision becomes the catalyst I need to get my ass back in gear. There are so many fucked-up loose ends that require closure. Adrenaline starts pumping as I contemplate my next move. Maybe it's time to stop running away.

I need to talk to Suzie.

I have to deal with Chrissa and Brody.

Most importantly, I must find Cruz.

My grip around my phone tightens. Heart hammering, nerves shot, I start calling my man again and again, but he doesn't pick up.

Why won't he answer me?

I keep texting, too.

Is he hurt?

But he doesn't respond.

Where are you, baby?

It occurs to me, then, that I don't even know how to reach him.

The four walls of the motel room begin closing in on me. I feel a bit crazed and claustrophobic. Over and over, I try to calm down by reminding myself: Cruz and I are still together, Cruz and I are still together, Cruz and I are still together...

We aren't broken up. He still loves me. He's only gone away to fight for us. There's no need to freak out. Not yet, anyway.

But I feel so fucking alone.

My mind hurtles down another rabbit hole. I start obsessing over every word and every moment that we shared with each other. I recall Cruz's heartbreaking confession from yesterday. It's impossible not to overanalyze everything. I simply care too much.

About him.

About us.

If I can't get my shit together, how am I going to take care of you and your sister?