Paper Bride ✔️ (Book 4 - DP Series - COMPLETE)

50. He's Gone

Saturday goes by easily as we spend most of our time wrapped in each other's arms or lounging in the jacuzzi. It's marvelous and magical, but when Sunday arrives, things change. Not in a bad way, just in a confusing way.

I roll over in bed, my hands coming into contact with the cold sheets beside me—the cold, empty, sheets. My eyes fly open, my heart rippling with a new sensation of panic. Where's Seth? Seconds pass and my pulse slows when I realize that he's probably just making breakfast or something.

Lazily, I fling the blankets to the side and roll to the edge of the bed where I drop my feet to the floor. With a muscle-ripping stretch, I lift my arms above my head and yawn. The temptation to flop back into bed is strong, but the need to see Seth is stronger. I stand, searching for my clothes scattered across the floor.

I dress, taking quiet steps out of the room, hoping to surprise Seth by coming up behind him and leaving a trail of kisses across his bare shoulders. The cottage is quiet, though, which has my brow scrunching in concern.

I round the corner to the kitchen and freeze. The deafening pulse of silence fills my ears. The house is eerily quiet. It's as if my body can sense his absence without needing verification; like the entire cabin is holding its breath, awaiting his return.

I turn, backtracking through the living room in hopes that I'd just missed something. Maybe he's in the shower and I just hadn't noticed the sound of water splattering against the tiles of the floor. Or maybe he left a note somewhere and is planning to return in a few minutes with breakfast and a steaming cup of Chai.

This sparks an idea, and I hurry back to the kitchen, checking the small coffee maker. He doesn't do anything without this morning liquid drug, but the pot is still clean. My heart has started picking up speed again now. With desperate steps, I head towards the back door, expecting to find him chilling on the back deck or sitting in the jacuzzi again.

Nothing.

Then I peer out the side window of the house, and that's when everything falls into place.

He's gone.

The truck is nowhere to be seen. Taking in a deep breath, I try to push back the sting of emotion that's prickling the back of my throat. He wouldn't do this. Not now. I wouldn't normally be this upset about waking up alone, but things have been going so well lately that I've almost been expecting something like this to happen. I've just been waiting to be slapped awake from this fantasy.

I've had this achy gut feeling ever since punching Seth in the jaw. I didn't hit him hard, but that still doesn't give me permission to hit someone. Confusion, hurt, and anger are never a free pass for abuse. And considering the level of abuse he's already suffered in his life, how dare I add to that? Shame washes over me even as I ponder the hurt stirring in my chest.

Suddenly I find myself laughing as tears blur my vision, a sense of relief flooding into my bloodstream. These thoughts of doubt have no place here anymore. Sure, it might appear suspicious that he's suddenly vanished without a word, but he doesn't deserve my doubt.

With these thoughts, I slump into the couch, a smile lifting the sides of my lips. He has his reasons for vanishing, I just need to practice a little patience. I can do this. I can wait.

Shuffling my way into the kitchen, I decide to make myself a drink. My mom used to make tea with cream in it, and nostalgia blooms in my chest as I pull a teabag from the cupboard and then turn to grab the milk from the fridge. The moment I pull the door open, a smile blooms to life in my soul. Sticking out from a pyramid of sausage and bacon piled over a small stack of pancakes is a toothpick with a folded scrap of paper taped to the side.