Page 72 of Hidden Echoes

Fuck, I should have ignored my moral compass and gone after her, I'm such an idiot.

Should I go after her now? Does she want me to go? What if she doesn't want to see me? I'm going crazy without her here.

My hand slides to the phone in my pocket.

I stare at the screen, waiting for a message. Nothing. Just silence.

I hit the location app, but she's learned to turn hers off.

My wife is gone.

The thought hits me harder than I expect, catching me off guard.

My wife.

I didn’t hesitate to call her that—not out loud, not even in my own head.

And that realization makes me feel even more like an idiot. I’ve spent so much time avoiding her, pushing her away, convincing myself this was temporary.

But now she’s gone, and I have no idea where she is.

And it feels like acid in my chest.

I don't know exactly what to say to Mia. Maybe something like, "Hey, I grew up in a family where any attempt at communication turned into violence, so I never really learned how to talk about things that matter. I don’t know how to explain why it’s okay for us to be married—I just know that I want it to be."

But that sounds pathetic.

I run a hand through my hair, exhaling sharply.

I'm a loser.

So I wait. I wait with every muscle in my body begging for her to come back.

And that's hell.

Damn, it's already been five hours and I can’t find her.

Every minute that passes makes me consider calling Kyle more seriously. And I never call Kyle.

But Mia is gone. And even though I know she can handle herself—indeed, precisely because I know what she’s capable of—I can’t shake the feeling that something could go very wrong.

My finger hovers over my brother’s name in the contact list, ready to swallow my pride and ask him to track her number. Then, as if it were some cosmic joke, my phone vibrates in my hand.

Mia's name flashes on the screen.

I'll answer right away.

"Please come home," I beg, and my voice comes out more pathetically begging than I'd like.

"I always love it when they do that puppy dog voice. Men are so alike," responds a voice that is definitely not Mia's.

I freeze.

"Where's Mia?"

"She's here, but, uh… let's just say she's in no condition to talk. Or hear. Or stand on her own two feet, really," the voice replies, clearly amused. "Just so you know, I was against calling you to come get her, but I believe in democracy, so I'll send you my location. And hurry."

The call drops before I can answer.

---