ʚɞ 𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝𝐬 - 𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐝 ʚɞ

13 | block me out

I woke up in the bed alone, a sudden surge of fear washing over me. My heart raced as I quickly stood up and scanned the room, my eyes darting to every corner. The early morning light filtered through the thin curtains, casting a soft glow that did little to calm my nerves. There was no sign of Tim anywhere. The space felt eerily empty, and I couldn't shake the unsettling feeling that something was wrong.

I checked the bathroom first, but it was empty. The silence was deafening. I tried calling out his name. "Tim?" I called, my voice trembling slightly. No response. Panic started to creep in, and I fumbled for my phone to try calling him. The ringing seemed to last forever, and with each passing second, my anxiety grew. Eventually, the call went to voicemail. I left a frantic message. "Tim, where are you? Please call me back as soon as you get this."

Desperation drove me to check every inch of the room. I peered under the bed, checked the closet, and even looked behind the curtains, but there was no trace of him. My mind raced with possibilities, each one more frightening than the last. Had something happened to him? Was he in trouble? My stomach churned with worry.

Just as I was about to call the front desk to see if anyone had seen him leave, the door to our room opened. Tim walked in, looking slightly disheveled but otherwise fine. Relief washed over me so quickly that I almost felt dizzy. I jumped up and rushed to him, wrapping my arms around him in a tight hug. "Where were you? You scared me to death!" I exclaimed, my voice a mix of relief and anger.

Tim looked genuinely apologetic. "I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to worry you," he said softly, hugging me back. "I went out to get us breakfast." He held up a bag of food, a hopeful smile on his face.

I pulled back slightly, looking into his eyes. "Breakfast?" I repeated, my anger melting away. "You got me breakfast?"

"Yeah," he replied, grinning now. "I thought it might cheer you up after last night."

I couldn't stay mad at him. My heart softened, and I smiled. "You're too sweet," I said, taking the bag from him. "What did you get?"

We settled back on the bed, spreading out the contents of the bag. There were pastries, fruit, and even some fresh orange juice. We ate together, sharing the food and laughing about silly things. The fear and anxiety from earlier dissipated as we enjoyed each other's company. The warmth of the moment made me forget all about the panic I had felt just minutes before.

As we were finishing up our breakfast, Tim's phone started ringing. He glanced at the caller ID, and I saw his face go pale. My heart skipped a beat. "What's wrong?" I asked, immediately sensing that something was off.

Tim didn't answer me. Instead, he got up and walked into the bathroom, closing the door behind him. I could hear him yelling through the door, though the words were muffled. The intensity of his voice sent a shiver down my spine. I strained to catch any bits of the conversation, but it was mostly incomprehensible.

I sat on the bed, anxiety creeping back in. Who could be calling him so early, and why was he so upset? The joyful atmosphere from moments ago had evaporated, replaced by a heavy tension. I wrapped my arms around myself, feeling a growing sense of dread.

After what felt like an eternity, Tim stormed out of the bathroom. His face was set in a hard, angry expression, and he didn't even look at me as he grabbed his car keys from the dresser. "Tim, what's going on?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

He didn't respond. Without a word, he walked out of the room, leaving me sitting on the bed, confused and alone. The remnants of our breakfast were still spread out on the bed, a stark contrast to the cold, empty feeling that now filled the room.

I sat there for a few moments, trying to process what had just happened. My mind raced with questions. Who had called him? Why was he so upset? And why did he leave without saying anything to me? The silence in the room was overwhelming, and I felt a knot form in my stomach.

I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself. I picked up my phone and considered calling him, but I hesitated. He clearly needed some space, and I didn't want to make things worse. Instead, I decided to clean up the breakfast mess. It was something to do, at least, and it might help distract me from my racing thoughts.

As I gathered up the plates and cups, my mind replayed the morning's events over and over. Tim had been so sweet and thoughtful, going out to get breakfast. What could have happened to change his mood so drastically? The unknown was gnawing at me, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something bad was looming on the horizon.

I put the leftovers in the small fridge in the room and threw away the trash. The physical activity helped a little, but the worry and confusion lingered. I sat back down on the bed, staring at my phone, willing it to ring with some kind of explanation.

Minutes turned into hours, and still, there was no word from Tim. My anxiety grew with each passing minute, and I felt more and more isolated. I tried to distract myself by turning on the TV, but I couldn't focus on anything. My mind kept drifting back to Tim and that phone call.

Finally, I couldn't take it anymore. I grabbed my phone and sent Tim a text. "Tim, please let me know you're okay. I'm really worried about you." I hit send and stared at the screen, hoping for a quick response.

As I waited, I thought about what I would say to him when he came back. I needed to know what had happened, but I also wanted to make sure he knew I was there for him, no matter what. The uncertainty was painful, but I knew we needed to face it together.

After what felt like an eternity, my phone buzzed with a reply. "I'm okay. I need to do something . I'll be back soon." It wasn't much, but it was enough to ease some of my worries. At least I knew he was safe.

I took a deep breath and lay back on the bed, staring at the ceiling. Whatever had happened, we would deal with it together. All I could do now was wait and hope that Tim would come back soon, ready to talk about whatever was troubling him.

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