Page 79 of It's Complicated

“How long ago?”

Denzel checks his watch, raising his eyebrows. “A couple of hours, actually.”

Oh my gosh, I broke him. Jace went out in the freezing cold because of me. Because of the horrible things I’ve said to him. And Aiden said he’d been drinking. What if something happened to him?

Denzel must read the worry on my face because he says, “I’m sure Dr. Barlow is fine.”

I fish my phone out of my bag and call him. The line goes straight to voicemail.

A thick lump grows in my throat. “Do you mind if I wait for him in the lobby, Denzel?”

“No need, Dr. Archibald. I’m allowed to let you into Dr. Barlow’s apartment at any time; he left us a spare key. So you can wait for him upstairs.”

“Thank you, Denzel.”

I enter Jace’s apartment, feeling weird standing in the crime scene by myself. I hang my coat in the closet behind the door and remove my shoes before walking into the living room.

The house still smells of coffee. Aiden was here not long ago. I collect the two empty mugs from the coffee table and the bag ofCheetos from the floor. The bottle of vodka Aiden told me about is still in the sink, now almost entirely empty. Did the liquor leak out or did Jace drink more? I empty the rest of the bottle in the sink and put it in the glass recycling bin. Next, I wash the sticky glass Jace must’ve used to drink the vodka, the mugs, and wipe the coffee table in the living room.

There’s nothing else to do. The rest of the house is as pristine as always.

I check the time again, past 1a.m.

I try Jace’s number one more time, knowing he won’t pick up. He doesn’t. I get sent to voicemail.

Worry wrings my stomach into tight knots. I pace the living room aimlessly, then sit on the couch, then get up and pace again, my mind racing with what-ifs. What if something happened to him? What if he’s hurt?

He’s hurting. I did that myself, but what if he got mugged, hit by a car, or thrown in jail for public intoxication?

I call the police to inquire about any accidents or arrests. Nothing. I try all the major hospitals in the city next, and still come out empty-handed.

Jace isn’t in jail or at the hospital. But even if he’s still just walking, it’s so cold outside, he’ll catch his death.

I try calling him again, to leave him a message, but as the beep sounds, I can’t get the words out of my mouth. I can’t tell him I love him over a voicemail message.

My broken heart is squeezing so hard it might just stop beating. I want to run out of the apartment and search for him. Find him and hold him in my arms until he’s warm again. Tell him how sorry I am.

Instead, I walk into his bedroom. I drop onto the bed and inhale his scent on the pillow.

The mattress is so soft, and Jace’s scent is so familiar, so reassuring… I close my eyes just for a second…

When I open them again, light filters in through the blinds, and I’m still alone in Jace’s bed.

I jolt awake with an electric shock.

What time is it?

I reach for my phone and see it’s already 7a.m.

Darn it.

My heart sinks.

Jace, where are you?

I try his number again—voicemail. The police. The hospitals.

Nothing.

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