Unremitting Love

Chapter 1

Daniel always calls.

I know, because I've been married to him for three months, in a relationship for four and a half years.

I know Daniel better than Jesus knows Daniel.

And Daniel always calls.

If he says he's going to be here by eight, but he's going to be one minute late because he had to stop to pee, Daniel will call.

He calls.

So it's eight thirty, and Daniel hasn't called.

He said he'd be here at eight.

It's Christmas Eve, and Daniel always calls.

It's snowing early this year. The snow has just started falling.

My family is here, and Daniel's.

Harper is twenty two. She's graduated from college.

Josh and Sky are married, and so are Finn and Sadie.

Daniel and I have a beautiful one story house that we bought and it's just off of a golf course.

It's beautiful.

We're at my Mama and Dad's house.

I keep checking my phone.

When I call him, it goes right to voicemail.

I peek out of the curtain again.

"If he's not here by nine, I'm going to go to the shop." I say.

"Maybe he forgot to call." Madeline says.

"Daniel always calls." I say, stressed.

I peek out of the window again.

It's Christmas Eve. Christmas freaking Eve.

I worry my lip, releasing the curtain.

I turn my phone volume up, stressed.

Why didn't he call?

It's chilly in here because Mama and Dad's heater is going, and since it's snowing outside, it's cold in the house.

I look out the window again, worried.

I look at the clock on the wall.

8:45.

He's forty five minutes late.

"Guys," I start. "Something happened to him." I say, looking out the window again.

"He probably got held up at the shop." Harper says.

"He would've called."

"Maybe his phone died." Finn says.

"He'd have used one of his employee's phone's." I say.

"He didn't let them work today." Mrs. Schmitt says.

"Then he'd have used the company phone. Or a laptop to message me on Facebook. I'm tell you-" I cut off, taking a deep breath. "Something happened."

My phone starts ringing.

I look down.

It's not Daniel.

It's (912)862-4862.

It's the Savannah area code.

I pick it up, pressing answer.

"Hello?"

"Yes, hi, is this Aubrey Schmitt?"

"Yes." I say. I hold my breath.