44. Chapter 44
Cate
Present
Ididn’t leave right away.
I lay there longer than I meant to, curled on my side, staring at the wall while the quiet pressed in. Eventually, the stillness grew uncomfortable - too much space to think, too much room for the past to stretch out and touch me.
I forced myself up and went straight to the kitchen, grabbing a drink from the refrigerator.
The hiss of the Diet Coke opening sounded too loud in the quiet. I took a long drink, leaning back against the counter, letting the cold bite ground me.
That was when I noticed my phone.
It sat on the counter where I’d dropped it earlier, dark and silent.
I frowned, realizing I hadn’t turned it back on yet.
I’d powered it down before the wedding, promising myself I’d deal with everything else later. Somewhere between flights, unpacking, and collapsing into bed, I’d forgotten. Or maybe I hadn’t forgotten at all.
I picked it up and turned it over in my hands, hesitating.
Then I pressed the button.
The screen lit up.
And almost immediately, it began to buzz.
Once.
Again.
Then again.
My chest tightened as notifications stacked faster than I could process them. Missed calls, voicemails, text previews blinking insistently across the screen.
Something was wrong.
I tapped the voicemail icon without sitting down.
“Ms. Larkin,” a man’s voice said, calm and professional. “This is Detective Marshal. I’m calling because we’ve located John Rosewood, and we’re confident it’s him this time.”
The can slipped from my hand.
It hit the floor and rolled, soda spilling across the tile, dark and sticky. I barely noticed.
“…there are some unusual circumstances,” the detective continued. “I’ve spoken with Seth Peterson, who helped us confirm the identification. I understand you’ve been out of town. When you get this message, please call me as soon as possible.”
My breath came too fast, too shallow.
I stared at the phone, my fingers numb.
Confident it’s him this time.
I hit replay.
The words didn’t soften the second time.
My knees gave out, and I sank to the floor, my back hitting the cabinet as the voicemail ended.
A sound escaped me, thin and broken, as my hand flew to my mouth. The room tilted, the edges blurring as nausea surged.
Another voicemail notification appeared.
Seth - 1 new message
I didn’t open it right away. I couldn’t.
My hands were shaking so badly I had to brace my wrist against my thigh before pressing play.
“Cate,” Seth’s voice said, low and urgent. “They found him. It’s real this time. Look, there’s something you need to know. Call me.”
I shut the phone off and curled forward, pressing my forehead to my knees.
The soda crept across the floor toward my bare foot, cold and sticky. I wiped at it with a towel, my movements clumsy and automatic. Anything to keep my hands busy.
I needed to hear a voice.
I turned the phone back on and dialed Seth’s number.
It rang four times.
“Hello?” a woman answered, her voice thick with sleep.
“I…” I stopped. “I’m sorry. I think I have the wrong number.”
“You looking for Seth?”
“Yes.”
“Hold on.” I heard sheets rustle, then a muffled protest. “Seth,” she called. “It’s Cate.”
There was a pause, then the line shifted.
“Cate?” Seth’s voice came through, suddenly alert. “Are you okay?”
“What happened?” I asked. “They said they found him. I need to know…”
“Not over the phone,” he said gently but firmly. “Where are you?”
“At my townhouse.”
“Okay.” He exhaled. “Just stay there. I’ll be there soon.”
“I don’t understand,” I whispered. “How did…”
“Cate,” he interrupted softly. “Just stay where you are.”
The call ended.
I lowered the phone into my lap and stared at the dark screen.
The kitchen was silent again. No buzzing. No voices. Just the hum of the refrigerator and the sound of my own breathing, uneven and wrong.
I stayed there on the floor, knees pulled to my chest, the phone resting uselessly in my hand.
The honeymoon was over.
And the life I’d thought I was leaving behind had found me anyway.