Page 98 of Tempted To Be Mine

The layover in Frankfurt was four hours. I found a quiet corner of the terminal and pulled out my laptop. I always worked while I waited for a flight. But what would I work on? I was pretty sure I had just quit my job.

34

JEREMY

The shoot ran long. Sebastian wanted to catch the last of the golden-hour light. I couldn’t blame him. The mountains looked like something out of a painting. I’d never seen such pretty shades of purple in real life. I’d seen paintings of purple sunsets but never thought it was real.

My mind wasn’t on the work. It was on Lucy. She hadn’t answered any of my texts. Not the photos I’d sent. Not the check-in messages. I’d taken a silly selfie specifically because I knew it would make her laugh. And it had been radio silence.

I told myself she was sleeping. She’d been so exhausted and worn down. Sleep was exactly what she needed. But the knot in my stomach wouldn’t ease. Something felt wrong. Something had felt wrong for days, and I’d been too afraid to push.

I decided I was taking her to the local hospital or clinic or whatever they had out in these parts. Travel bugs were real, but usually that was when you were packed in a flying sardine can. One of the reasons my mom preferred private was to avoid getting sick.

And it wasn’t jet lag. I had traveled the world with the woman and she’d never had it this bad. Something was wrong and I was going to make sure she got help.

When Sebastian finally called it a day, I practically ran to the car. The driver must have sensed my urgency because he didn’t try to make small talk on the way back. I sat in the back seat, phone in hand, watching for the three dots that never appeared.

I stopped in the village to grab food. Soup from the little café she’d mentioned wanting to try. I got some fresh bread to go with it, and in case she was feeling better, I picked up a box of chocolates. Comfort food. I knew how much she loved gourmet chocolate.

The chalet was dark when I pulled up. No lights in the windows. No smoke from the chimney. The staff usually went around and started fires for guests about an hour before sundown.

“Lucy?” I called as I pushed through the front door. “I brought food. That soup you wanted.”

Silence.

I set the bags on the kitchen counter and headed for the stairs. Maybe she was still asleep.

“Lucy?”

Her bedroom door was open. The bed was empty. Unmade. I checked the bathroom. Empty. Her toiletries were gone. I checked the closet to find her clothes were gone as well.

I stood in the middle of the room, my heart pounding so hard I could feel it in my ears. This didn’t make sense. None of this made sense. I walked across to my room, thinking maybe she would be in there.

Empty.

“What the fuck?”

That was when I saw it. A piece of paper on my pillow.

“Oh fuck no.”

I’d seen this shit in movies, but I never thought it actually happened. I crossed the room and snatched it up. My hands were shaking as I unfolded it. I read in complete disbelief.

She was gone. Lucy was gone.

I sank onto the edge of the bed. My chest felt like someone had reached in and squeezed my heart. And my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t do anything except sit there and stare at the wall and try to understand how everything had fallen apart so fast.

What did I do? What the hell did I do?

I went back through every conversation, every moment, every interaction from the past few days. Had I said something? Done something? Missed some crucial signal that she was unhappy?

She’d seemed off since we landed. Tired. Distant. I’d chalked it up to the travel because that was what she said it was. And I believed it. But then there was that day she couldn’t keep her hands off me. Did I handle that wrong? Maybe it was a test and I failed.

I didn’t know how long I sat there. Thirty minutes? An hour?

Eventually, I made myself get up. I couldn’t stay in this chalet. Not with her absence echoing off every wall. I couldn’t quite breathe right.

I grabbed my coat and walked out into the night. Sebastian and Bernadette’s chalet was a five-minute walk up the road. The lights were on, warm and welcoming, the complete opposite of how I felt.