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I go through the motions, engaging in polite conversation and exchanging pleasantries with the guests, but my mind keeps drifting back to herJessy.
As the event draws to a close, I find myself restless and unsettled; the need to find Jessy and make things right.
I excuse myself from the gathering, determined to track her down and plead for her forgiveness, no matter what it takes.
The drive to Jessy’s apartment is a blur, my mind consumed with thoughts of her and the desperate need to make things right.
Her apartment has never seemed so far away. It’s as if the faster I drive, the farther it becomes. This caused me to push the speed and safety limits as I raced against time to reach her.
When I finally arrive at her apartment, I leap out of the car and rush to her door, pounding on it with all the force I can muster.
“Jessy, please! Open up!” I plead, my voice hoarse with desperation.
I pound on her door until my knuckles start to hurt, and I’m sure I must have woken up her neighbors.
But there’s no response, no sign that she’s even inside. Panic seizes me, squeezing my chest with a vise-like grip as I frantically continue to knock, my heart pounding in my ears.
Suddenly, a neighbor emerges from the adjacent apartment, casting a curious glance in my direction. “Is everything alright?” she asks, her brows furrowing with concern.
I turn to her, my eyes wild with fear. “Have you seen the girl who lives in this apartment?” I ask, my voice trembling with urgency.
The neighbor shakes her head, her expression somber. “Jessy? No, I haven’t seen her since early this morning when she left for a party at her work. I don’t think she has returned,” she replies, her voice tinged with concern. “Is everything okay?”
A sense of dread washes over me as I realize that Jessy isn’t here, that she’s gone, and I have no idea where she went. I stumble backward, my mind racing with a million possibilities, each more terrifying than the last.
Without another word, I reach for my phone and dial Jessy’s number, praying for her to answer. But it goes straight to voicemail, leaving me with a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.
Desperation takes hold as I realize I may have lost her forever, that my actions may have driven her away for good.
And as I stand there, alone in the darkness of the night, I’m left to wonder where she could possibly be, and if I’ll ever have the chance to make things right again.
On my way back to my penthouse, I keep trying to reach her on the phone, but I keep getting the voicemail.
Tossing my key on the coffee table, I loosen my tie and slouch on a couch. I should have just listened to Drake when he told me to tell Jessy the truth. I was too afraid, too busy thinking about myself and how I didn’t want her to see me differently to realize that I was hurting our relationship by keeping this away from her.
I jolt up when my phone starts ringing, hoping it’s Jessy. I quickly reach for it, but I’m greeted with disappointment when it turns out to be Amy.
“Hey, Amy,” I answer, forcing a note of nonchalance into my voice despite the turmoil raging inside me.
“Hey, Ethan, everything okay? I noticed you left the party in a hurry a little too early,” she asks, her voice tinged with concern.
I hesitate for a moment, unsure of how much to reveal. “Yeah, just had a bit of a disagreement with Jessy,” I reply, trying to downplay the severity of the situation.
There’s a beat of silence on the other end of the line before Amy speaks again. “What happened?” she asks, her tone more serious now.
I let out a sigh, running a hand through my hair in frustration. “It’s...complicated,” I admit, my voice heavy with regret. “Have you heard from her at all tonight?”
Amy pauses, her silence stretching out for what feels like an eternity. “No, I saw her at the party earlier, but she left before you did,” she replies, her voice tinged with concern. “Why? Is something wrong?”
I bite my lip, my mind racing with a million possibilities. “I’ve been trying to reach her, but she’s not answering,” I explain, my voice betraying my growing unease. “Could you try calling her for me? She’s not taking my calls.”
There’s a moment of hesitation on Amy’s end before she responds. “Of course, Ethan,” she says, her voice softening with concern. “I’ll call her right now and let you know if I hear anything.”
Relief floods through me at her words, and I am grateful for her willingness to help. “Thanks, Amy,” I say, my voice choking with emotion.
The shrill ring of my phone cuts through the heavy silence of my penthouse, jolting me out of my spiraling thoughts. With a sense of trepidation, I reach for the device, my heart pounding in my chest as I see Amy’s name flashing on the screen.
“Hey, Amy,” I answer, my voice strained with anticipation. “Were you able to reach her?”
