Back at the hotel, she’s nowhere to be found. I checked her room, but it was empty. I tried to text her, then called her, and texted her again, but nothing. The last time she checked her email was hours ago.
Where the fuck is she?
It’s unlike her not to answer anything. The sunlight begins to disappear as night falls over the city. I quickly pour myself a whisky, downing it in one go. Then, pour another as I pace the room, wondering how long I have to wait until I call 9-1-1.
If anything happens to her, I don’t know what I’ll do with myself.Fuck, calm down.
The beep of the swipe card causes me to dart my gaze onto the door. She enters the room with her head bowed, quietly closing the door behind her.
“Where the hell were you?” I question, raising my voice.
Slowly, she glances up, and the first thing I see is a cut on her lip. I rush over to her, panicked, examining the rest of her. “Alexandra, talk to me. What happened?”
“It’s stupid,” she begins in a low voice. “My uncle asked me to drop keys off to his son at NYU. I opened the door and kinda, well, never mind. Anyway, I ran into the door on my way out.”
I take a step back, crossing my arms beneath my chest, the worry now turning into anger.
“Why didn’t you answer your phone?”
Alexandra places her purse down on the bed and then folds her arms, keeping her distance from me.
“I fell asleep.”
“You fell asleep?” I repeat, gritting my teeth. “Where exactly did you fall asleep?”
“On Beau’s bed,” she rushes, shaking her head. “It’s not what you think. I was in so much pain when I hit the door. I felt so dizzy, so I sat down. It was worse when I tried to get up, so Beau suggested I lie down. It wasn’t a concussion or anything, just pain and maybe the time difference that made me fall asleep. Look, I know it sounds weird, but it’s the truth. Why would I lie?”
A slight growl expels from my lips as my fist clenches, resting beside my leg. A burning sensation spreads across my chest while I try to process what she just told me. She fell asleep in some college kid's bed and didn’t have the decency to call or respond to the numerous text messages I sent.
As if I meannothing.
“Exactly what did you see inside the room which made you turn around so fast you crashed into the door.”
“Beau, being Beau.” She tries to laugh it off. “A girl was pleasuring him.”
The anger seeps through my veins. So, she saw him getting off with another girl and then fell asleep in his bed? My teeth clench as my jaw writhes in pain.
“Am I supposed to believe you just fell asleep in another guy's bed?” I question with a raised voice. “I was worried about you!”
“I’m sorry,” she shouts in return. “God, I didn’t sleep with him. Don’t you trust me? Not that it would matter since we never agreed to be exclusive. How is that even possible when you’re fucking married!”
“Alexandra,” I warn, averting my gaze.
“No. Don’t Alexandra me. You can think whatever the hell you want to think,” she argues with blazing eyes. “I don’t have to answer you. You don’t own me. No one owns me. You are not my boyfriend.”
She grabs her purse in a huff.
“Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
Her lips press together thoughtfully. “Anywhere but here.”
The door slams behind her, and just like a knife through the heart, reality has shown me the truth.
I’ve fallen in love with her.
And none of it matters because in less than six months, someone needs to be pregnant with my baby.
Or else … I’m left withnothing.