The Love Of My Life

Chapter13

Tony's POV

I sat there on the couch, staring at the wall, my head spinning with everything I'd just said to Maya—and everything she hadn't said back. The house was suffocatingly quiet, the silence that made you feel small like the walls were closing in. I couldn't do it anymore. I couldn't keep sitting here, calling her, texting her, and getting nothing in return. I couldn't keep trying to hold myself together when everything around me felt like it was falling apart. My baby was out there, by herself, hurting, running from something she wouldn't let me see, and I couldn't just sit here and wait for her to decide if—or when—she'd let me in. I ran a hand over my head, gripping the back of my neck as I tried to steady my breathing. Tomorrow, I was supposed to fly to Florida for the campaign. Another trip, another obligation pulling me away from her. But how could I focus on work when my wife shut me out, ignoring me like I didn't matter? No. I couldn't do this. I couldn't wait any longer. I had to see her. I had to fix this now. Before I could second-guess myself, I grabbed my phone and started looking up flights to Nevada. She'd made it clear that she didn't want to talk to me, but she couldn't ignore me if I was standing right in front of her. I wasn't about to let her push me away anymore. The flight was expensive—last-minute bookings always are—but I didn't care. None of that mattered. Not when my marriage was on the line.

I packed a small bag in a haze, grabbing enough clothes for a day and shoving them inside without even thinking about what I was taking. My mind was too preoccupied with everything else. What was I going to say to her? Would she even let me in? God, what if she slammed the door in my face? The thought made my chest tighten, but I forced myself to keep moving. I wasn't going to let fear stop me. Not now. I booked the flight and called for a rideshare to take me to the airport. The whole time, my hands wouldn't stop shaking. I could barely focus long enough to double-check my bag or make sure I had my ID. All I could think about was her—my love, alone in a hotel room in Nevada, spiraling and refusing to let me help her. The ride to the airport felt like it took forever. My knee bounced restlessly as I stared out the window, my mind running through a thousand scenarios. I kept replaying our last conversation in my head, the way her silence had cut me deeper than any words could have. Why couldn't she just talk to me? Why couldn't she let me in? By the time I got to the airport, I was practically running through the terminal. Security felt like it took hours, even though it was probably only twenty minutes. I didn't even care that I was boarding a plane just to fly across the country without a solid plan. I'd figure it out when I got there.

All I knew was that I couldn't sit back and wait any longer. Not for another day. Not for another hour. As I settled into my seat on the plane, I stared out the window, watching the city lights fade into the darkness. The knot in my chest tightened with every passing minute. What if she didn't want to see me? What if she wanted to be left alone? But then I thought about the way she'd left. She didn't even wake me up. The way she'd avoided my calls, my texts. She wasn't just shutting me out—she was shutting herself off from everyone. And I couldn't let that happen. I wasn't flying to Nevada to yell or to guilt her into coming home. I was going because I loved her. Because I couldn't stand to see her crumble like this, not without at least trying to help her. As much as her silence hurt me, I knew she was hurting, too. I didn't know why, and maybe I didn't understand it, but I wasn't going to let her go through it alone. I closed my eyes and leaned back in my seat, taking a deep breath to steady myself. I had no idea what I was walking into, but one thing was clear—I wasn't leaving Nevada until I got through to her. This wasn't just about saving our marriage. It was about saving her. And no matter how hard it was, I wasn't going to give up on her. Not now. Not ever.

The flight to Nevada was a blur. I barely remembered landing or even grabbing my bag from the carousel. All I could focus on was the thought of seeing My baby—of confronting her, of finally being face-to-face. My hands trembled as I opened the app on my phone, pulling up the location she shared with me, and she had mine, too. I'd checked it obsessively since she left, watching that little dot move from place to place, trying to piece together where she was going and why. Now, it was my guide, leading me to her. The Uber ride to the hotel felt endless. My stomach churned with nerves, my heart pounding so loudly I swore the driver could hear it. What was I going to say? What was I going to do when I finally saw her? Would she even talk to me? When we pulled up in front of the hotel, I froze for a moment, staring at the building like it was some kind of looming threat. What if she refuses to see me? What if she slams the door in my face? But I couldn't let those thoughts stop me. I took a deep breath, grabbed my bag, and stepped out of the car. Inside the lobby, the air was cool and smelled faintly of lavender. The receptionist looked up with a polite smile, her fingers hovering over a keyboard. "Hi," I said, my voice cracking slightly. I cleared my throat and tried again. "Hi, I'm here to see my wife, Maya. I... I don't know her room number, but I can show you my ID. I just—" I stopped, swallowing hard. "I need to see her." The woman hesitated, her brows knitting together. "Sir, we can't give out guest room information unless—" "I'm her husband," I blurted, pulling out my wallet and handing over my ID. "Please. I don't mean to make this difficult, but I need to see her. It's important."