Chapter thirty-five
Ben
It’s been three days since I’ve seen her.
When I left her apartment, she was happy. Content. Lying in bed, half-naked, covers pulled up to keep her warm as I’d opened the window to let the cool air in to freshen the place before heading off to work.
Then radio silence. Like whatever we had is barely an echo. I hate it.
I haven’t seen her at the retreat. We haven’t had any necessity to speak for professional reasons, so my mornings and goodnights have gone unread. As if I’ve been shut out with no warning.
Something’s wrong. I feel it. Antonia doesn’t hide from problems. If I’d upset her, she’d tell me. I know something bad’s happened, and she’s avoiding me. We planned to meet last night for dinner. I got a single text saying she wasn’t going to show.
My last patient’s gone for the day. It’s time to head home, but I’ll never settle when the situations like this. Things have been too good, going too well. I’m not willing to risk it. Not willing to risk us.
I pick up my phone and call her office. Clara answers.
“Good afternoon, Opengate.”
“Afternoon, Clara. It’s Ben Jones.”
“Hi, Ben. How are you?”
“Is Antonia available?”
She goes silent. “She’s not here. She hasn’t been in for the last couple of days. I assumed she was with you.”
“No, I haven’t heard from her. Have you spoken to her today?”
Silence again. Every beat missed spikes my heart rate.
“Just for a few incidental things, nothing important. Maybe she’s at home.”
“Unlikely,” I say. “When does Antonia ever stay home?”
***
Once I’m in my car, I take the wrong turn, heading to a place that I don’t live, but where someone I love does. I drive past her apartment. The lights are off. The blinds are up. She’s not there.
Fuck. I need to know she’s alright.
I park the car anyway, walking over and pressing the buzzer, even though I know it’s pointless. At least I know I’ve tried. For a moment, I consider calling the cops, but it seems a bit extreme. She’s an adult. Clara’s spoken to her.
Something cold settles in my chest; everything tenses. I hate not knowing where she is. My mind runs through every possibility. None of them good.
If Antonia’s hiding somewhere or from someone, there’s only one place I know she would be—the retreat. So I head out of the city. A journey out of my way, but I need to find her.
If I’m right, I could text her, but she’ll tell me not to come.
That’s a chance I’m not willing to take. Seeing her feels like it’s the oxygen I need to settle myself, never mind what is going on with her.
***
The gates to the retreat are closed. I jump out of the car, nod to security, and let myself in. As I walk toward the main building, her car sits in front. The site office appears dark, but there’s a light in the hallway. My heart beats slightly harder.
I’m not sure what I’m walking into.
I pause outside the office door, listening.