Chapter 42 River
River
The sheets are cool to the touch when I reach for her. My hand drags over the place where she should be, searching for her warmth and curves.
At this point, it’s instinct.
Much like breathing.
But she’s not there.
I sit up quickly, my chest heaving. My heart slams against my ribs as last night rushes back in vivid flashes.
The way Callie climbed on top of me before we started moving as one.
Almost like I was her choice, and it meant something.
And maybe it did.
I glance around at the emptiness that surrounds me.
Then again, maybe it didn’t.
My bare feet hit the floor as I shove a hand through hair that’s still mussed from her fingers tugging at it last night. My body aches in all the best ways, even though my insides feel as if they’ve been carved out.
After throwing on a pair of flannel pants, I rush across the hall to Nora’s room. A month ago, it was a barely used guest room, now it belongs to a two-year-old with golden curls and a smile that melts everything inside me.
My lungs constrict as I quickly scan the space.
Nora’s gone.
Just like I suspected she would be. But everything else is still here. The baby monitor on the dresser. Nora’s fuzzy blanket folded at the foot of the bed. The Railers teddy bear I brought home last week is propped against the pillows. And there’s a pair of tiny sneakers by the closet door.
All of her things are still here.
Relief and confusion roil within me until it’s impossible to ignore.
She didn’t take anything.
Which means that she didn’t leave me.
It’s always possible that she just stepped out with the need for air.
Space and time to think.
Although, try telling that to the part of me that’s already panicking that I’ve lost her.
I head to the kitchen, hoping to find a note. Something that will stop the mental spiral.
But there’s nothing.
Why didn’t she wake me before taking off this morning?
No matter how hard I try to reason it out or how many scenarios I run through, my gut keeps dragging me back to the same conclusion.
She ran back to Zane.
The thought lodges like a splinter that’s impossible to dig out.
I pour a glass of water, more out of habit than thirst. It sits untouched on the counter, my hand wrapped too tight around the glass to lift it. My fingers are shaking. My whole body feels like it’s vibrating just beneath the surface.
Every step I take echoes too loudly in the silence she left behind. The space feels wrong. Off. Too quiet, too still. Almost like the air itself has gone stale without her in it.
Every room I pass feels empty. Like she somehow managed to take the warmth with her.
Did I push too hard?
Did I make her feel cornered?
What if I turned this into a choice when all she needed was time to figure out what she wanted?
What if last night was her way of saying goodbye?
My fingers curl around the edge of the counter, gripping it so tight my knuckles turn bone white.
I’ve never wanted something this badly.
Not the game.
Not a contract.
Not the numbers on the back of my jersey or the team logo stitched across the front.
I want Callie.
And Nora.
I want the quiet mornings, the messy evenings, the laughter from the next room. I want the routine of them in my space like they were always meant to be there.
For the first time since she walked into my life, I wonder if I let myself believe in something I was never meant to keep.
The sharp ding of the elevator breaks the stillness, and my heart kicks hard in my chest. I spin toward the door as hope surges within me.
Callie.
She came back.
She didn’t leave me.
She—
The doors slide open and Willow steps out first, her expression shifting the second she sees me. Maverick follows behind her with the kids in tow.
The hope rising within shatters, the air rushing out of me like a punch to the gut.
Willow’s gaze scans my face. “What happened?”
I swallow hard, the knot in my throat thick and unforgiving. “She’s gone.”
Maverick frowns. “You know, this whole twin telepathy thing you two have going on is creepy as fuck.”
The kids race into the penthouse, shouting Nora’s name as they search for her.
Not bothering to respond to her husband, Willow steps close and wraps her arm around my waist before resting her head on my shoulder. “It’ll be okay, River. I know it will.”
I nod, even though I don’t believe it. “Thanks.”
More than ever, I need my sister to be right.