I looked around, noticing the untouched kitchen and the empty living room. As I padded across the apartment toward the bedroom, I glanced into the office and guest bedrooms.
Nothing.
My stomach began to turn sour.
Crossing the threshold of our bedroom didn’t alleviate my nerves as my eyes went from one side to the other, and I still found nothing.
She wasn’t here.
I pulled out my cell phone, checking for missed messages, texts, anything that would alert me as to why she wasn’t home.
Maybe she’d just gone for a walk or run an errand. She normally had class today, but she’d mentioned she was skipping. She might have changed her mind.
I tried her cell, but it quickly went to voice mail.
Feeling frustrated, I walked into the bathroom, running the tap water waiting for it to turn ice cold. Cupping it in my hands, I splashed my face over and over until I felt my heart calm slightly. Grabbing a clean towel, I held it to my face and breathed slowly, in and out, rationalizing with myself, before I noticed how empty the counter looked.
The towel fell to the floor.
I opened the medicine cabinets and found everything of hers missing. Walking to the shower, I found her shampoo, shave gel, and other toiletries gone.
Running into the bedroom, I pulled open the doors to our closet. Dozens of hangers lie empty. Some were on the floor as if she’d packed quickly for wherever she set off to.
She’d left me.
Oh God, she left me.
My hands shook as I speed-dialed the number on my phone, waiting for Marcus to pick up.
He cheerfully greeted me. “Hey there, J-Man. How’s it going?”
“Where is she?” I asked in a rush.
Concern enveloped his tone. “Who? What are you talking about?”
“Lailah. Where the hell is she, Marcus?”
Silence.
“What is going on, Jude? Did you two have some sort of fight?”
“She left me, and the first place she would go is to Molly,” I said slowly, my voice gritty and flat.
“Molly spoke with her this morning, but she didn’t mention anything about Lailah coming here. What the hell is going on, Jude?”
“She talked with Molly?” I asked, ignoring his last question.
“Yeah. I was out surfing, and I think she called while Molly was feeding Zander. We babysat last night. She said Lailah sounded a little down, but they had a good chat.”
“Do you know what they talked about?”
“Motherhood, I guess. She asked what it was like for Molly as a single mother or something like that. Seriously, Jude, you’re scaring me. What could possibly have sent her packing?”
My eyes went wide with panic, and I nearly doubled over. “Will you call me, if she contacts you?”
“Jude, will you tell me what’s going on?” he pleaded.
“I can’t—not yet, not now.”
“Okay, son,” he answered, sounding defeated. “I’ll let you know if we hear anything. Do you need anything?” he offered, his voice warm and sure.
“Just my wife,” I answered.
We said our good-byes, and I promised to call in the morning with any updates.
Soon, it quickly became silent again in the apartment. I looked around, feeling swallowed by the square feet of the place. Without her here, the walls suddenly felt large and ominous, growing taller and darker, like a nightmare come to life.
I needed to find her.
Watching the sunset fall across the horizon, I never moved. Feeling paralyzed by my uselessness, I just sat on the edge of the bed and waited for her to come back to me. Where was she? If she didn’t show up in California, how would I even begin to look for her?
Around eight that night, my phone finally buzzed. I grabbed for it, seeing a single text from Marcus.
She’s here, was all it said.
No longer in on hold flux, I had what I’d been waiting for, and I jumped into action. I threw anything I could grab into a suitcase while making flight arrangements on my phone at the same time.
Over the years, I’d been told every marriage, even the good ones, would reach a point where it was time to either fight for the one you wanted or call it a draw and collect your winnings.
It was the great fight or flight of marriage.
I’d known, someday, Lailah and I would have ours. I’d just never expected it to be a month after we’d said our vows.
As I packed the last of my suitcase and locked the apartment, I knew which path I’d chosen, which path I’d always choose.
For Lailah, I’d always fight.
LESS THAN TWO days.
Two days of doctor’s appointments, arguments, and rushed decisions.
Two days of longing for the way it had once been.
Even though I had made the decision to leave, my heart still bled for the loss. It still reached out for him in the darkness and called out for him in the wee hours of the morning. I hoped we could repair the damage that had been done. I hoped with a bit of time he might see things differently and perhaps warm up to the idea of becoming a father.