LOVE? NEVER | ✓

Chapter Twenty - Two

"Her eyes have their own vocabulary. What a beautiful language to learn."

●●●●●●

My eyes slowly opened to different scenery. I was on my bed, in my room, in my mansion, and I didn't see Rose.

She wasn't there.

"Finally," Lana, my cousin, sighed, running her hands through her hair, dark circles visible under her eyes.

I looked at her disbelievingly, rubbing my eyes to wake up properly.

"Lana?" I questioned, still not believing that it was her.

"In the flesh," she smiled.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, sitting up and gasping when I saw the time. "Six in the morning?!"

"Is there a problem?"

"Do you know what happened yesterday?"

"You went through a panic attack," she answered slowly. "I thought you got over them."

"I did," I ran my fingers through my hair. "But they came back."

They came back after I met Rose, Lana, after my whole life flipped upside down.

"The girl you were with was really worried."

"Rose?"

"I don't know her name. She called, and I was here already and answered. She said she can't stay any longer, and that I must get you home quickly."

"Where did she go? I was her ride."

"I don't know."

"What brought you back from Sydney?"

"I'm on vacation," she grinned. "Plus, Nate and I are reliving the moments of how we met. It's like we're replaying our own little movie."

"You're still together?"

"Is there a problem with that?"

"I guess so, it has been three years."

"Three years from our wedding, and we're still strong as ever."

"Whatever."

"Rude."

"Yeah, I already know that," I stood up, smirking, and walked towards my closet, picking up a pair of jeans and a navy blue t-shirt.

"Where are you going?"

"To see where Rose is."

"Now?"

"Yes."

"Who is she?"

"My fiancé."

●●●

I left the mansion after a never-ending questionnaire with Lana about my relationship with Rose. She asked about everything and I answered truthfully—well, disregarding the fact that I didn't mention to her about Rose's disease.

Lana has Agliophobia, and trust me, she doesn't want to hear about someone in pain-cause she might, probably, possibly, likely, perhaps, maybe will freak the hell out.

I walked to the penthouse, opening the door slowly and praying quietly that I'd see her sleeping on the bed, like nothing had ever happened the previous day.

"Rose?" I called quietly.

Silence.

I walked inside the empty rooms, my mind swirling with thought and scenarios of what had possibly happened.