Page 93 of Beautiful Crazy

“I’ll check.” I search Emily’s name and find her account and then scroll through her posts. It all looks normal as far as I’m concerned. Her usual posts about her randomness throughout her workdays and a few videos of Lola being Lola. “Wait…”

There’s one photo that comes up that she’s tagged in. Based on the black jeans and fuzzy sweater she’s wearing I can tell this picture was taken at the Singles event that The Watering Hole sponsored. But there’s nothing inappropriate about her in this picture at all.

A short gasp comes from my mouth when I zoom in on the picture and see myself seated at the bar in the back of the room where I was waiting for Emily, only in this picture I’m not alone. Blondie is next to me, her hands on my chest. I remember this happening. I even remember exactly what I was saying when it happened.

“This picture means nothing. Surly she would know that. I only had eyes for Emily that night.”

“Let me see.” Cheyenne holds out her hand and I place my phone in her palm. She takes a good look at the picture, narrowing her eyes and studying what’s going on in the background.

“So, Emily was clearly with you that night.”

I nod. “Yeah. We pretended not to know each other in front of that blonde girl. We flirted like we’ve never flirted before.”

And then I gave her the best goodnight kiss I’ve ever given.

“Okay, I see how she could misconstrue this, but like you said, if she was with you that night and saw that girl, I wouldn’t think she would be worried at all about it.”

“Yeah, she knew it happened. That blonde was all over me and the Emmett of three years ago probably would’ve fucked her in the hotel bathroom, or paid for a room and taken her upstairs, but I only wanted Emily that night and I made damn sure she knew it.”

“Alright, so it has to be something else then. I’m sure she’ll talk about it with you once you get home.”

With a few more hours to go until I can leave for the day, I send Emily a few texts but never get a response.

Me:Hey. Thanks for coming to see me today. It meant a lot. I’m sorry I couldn’t go out. Tomorrow?

Me:You doing okay? I’m worried about you. How about dinner tonight? Anywhere you want to go.

Me:Feeling any better? I’m guessing you went home and took a nap. Text me when you’re awake okay? I love you Em. *heart emoji*

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I didn’t hear from Emily for the rest of the workday, and she hasn’t answered her phone the last three times I’ve tried to call her on my way home. I don’t think I’ve ever driven so fast and if I’m being honest, I don’t even know exactly how I got from work to home because I don’t recall at all which route I took.

The moment the elevator doors open to the loft, I’m calling out for her.

“Emily!” I shove open the door and am met with absolute silence except for the ongoing traffic on the streets outside the windows. Emily’s not at her desk, and her laptop isn’t there either. The first place I check is the couch wondering if she took a long nap, but the couch is also vacant. When I turn toward the short bedroom hallway, Lola comes trotting down, her fluffy gray tail behind her swinging as she heads to her food bowl.

“Hey Lola. Where’s Emily?”

She doesn’t even meow in response. She just stretches in front of me and then weaves in and out of my legs making it hard to walk until I’m finally past her and heading to Emily’s room. At first glance she’s not there so I check my room.

Empty.

I toss my hands into my hair wondering where she could’ve gone and then double back to the living room wondering if maybe she left a note and I missed it. The refrigerator doors have nothing hanging from them except for a few random pizza shop magnets and our roommate rules we came up with when Emily moved in. I’m pretty sure by now, we’ve broken every one of them. The kitchen counter is bare as is Emily’s desk and the living room coffee table.

“Maybe the bathroom mirror?”

I head into the bathroom but see nothing on the mirror waiting for me, but I do notice something.

Her toothbrush is gone.

“What in the hell?”

Fear twists in my gut when I dig through the bathroom cabinets and discover her hairbrush, hair dryer, and curling iron along with the facewash she uses are also gone.

“Shit. No, no, no, no, no.”

I run into her bedroom and quickly scan around the room. Her panda pajama pants are missing from the corner of her bed where she usually lays them. Her dresser drawers aren’t filled with clothes, yet the laundry basket is relatively empty. Her make-up bag is gone, and her closet has several extra empty hangers that I don’t remember it having before.

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