Page 114 of Let’s Be Real

“That would be really good.”

A long beat of silence.

“I just wish I could hear your voice and know you’re there.”

He inhaled, but it sounded closer to gasping. “I’m really sorry about this. You’re so beautiful, and you make me really happy. Your smiles…I think about your smiles all the time.”

He laughed without any trace of happiness.

“I’m tired tonight. That’s what it is. So tired. But I love you, Sam. I really do.”

He took another gasping breath. “Okay. I’ll see you in the morning.”

I held my breath through the next silence.

“We’ll snuggle. It’ll be good.”

Softer, he said, “See you, Samantha. See you.”

There were more muffled sounds, a groan, then the voicemail ended.

I stared at my phone, then my thumb hit play again without conscious thought. This time, I closed my eyes and listened. Not just to the words, but the sounds in between.

Exhaustion dragged through every breath, every syllable, but this was more than Nate being tired. He didn’t sound like my Nate. Not at all.

This wasn’t any version of the Nate I knew.

Ice flooded my veins, and panic forced me into action. I grabbed my keys and shoved my feet into my shoes, tearing through the front door I’d just locked peacefully minutes before.

Something was wrong. I didn’t know what, but I couldn’t wait until morning to find out.

By the time I made it to Nate’s, it was late, and I let myself inside to a silent tomb. But Nate was quiet. That was how he went through life. I loved how careful he was about his place in the world.

Tonight, though, it was terrifying me.

I’d been crossing my fingers I’d find him working at his kitchen island like I had so many times, but it was empty, his laptop closed and forgotten.

Fear clogged my throat as I rushed into his bedroom. Light seeped from beneath his closed bathroom door.

Please.

I didn’t know what I was asking for.

Just…

Please.

I didn’t think I took a breath or blinked as I crossed the room, for fear the light would go out before I got there.

“Nate?” I whispered, turning the knob.

The door only opened a sliver before it stopped, my heart along with it. Something on the other side was blocking it.

“Nate? It’s me. It’s Sammie.”

The first break in the silence was heavy breathing coming from the floor. That shouldn’t have been such a relief, but it was.

It was.