CHAPTER 7

A Missing Night

The candle on the dinner table had long since melted into a pool of wax. The food sat untouched, cold, and lifeless, like the pit in my stomach that had been growing all night. The wine glass stood half-full beside my plate, reflecting the dim light of the chandelier above. My phone lay next to it, screen lighting up for the hundredth time with the same result:

No answer.

I stared at it, my fingers gripping the edge of the table so tightly that my nails dug into the wood.

Alex was gone.

And I had no idea where he was.

At first, I told myself not to panic. He was probably caught up at work—maybe an unexpected late meeting, an urgent project that demanded his attention. It wasn't unusual for him to stay late.

But as the hours dragged on, the excuses I made for him began to sound hollow.

By ten, my annoyance turned into concern.

By midnight, concern twisted into worry.

By two in the morning, worry transformed into something darker.

By four, I wasn't worried anymore. I was furious.

Where the hell was he?

I walked to the window, staring out at the quiet streets below. The city felt different at night—slower, more uncertain, like it was holding its breath. My reflection in the glass was a ghost of myself: tired eyes, tensed shoulders, fingers gripping my phone so tightly that my knuckles turned white.

I called again.

Straight to voicemail.

I shut my eyes and forced a breath through my nose, willing myself to stay calm.

But how could I?

This wasn't normal.

Alex was always careful, always considerate. Even when work pulled him away, even when things got hectic, he never disappeared like this.

Unless…

A sick feeling coiled in my stomach.

Unless he didn't want me to know where he was.

I shoved the thought away. No. I wasn't going to let my mind spiral. Lisa's words were still fresh in my head, and I wouldn't let them twist my perception of him.

And yet…

Somewhere deep down, in a place I didn't want to acknowledge, a small voice whispered:

What if you're wrong?

What if Lisa was right?

I sank onto the couch, curling my arms around myself. I didn't sleep. I just sat there, staring at the front door, waiting for it to open.

Waiting for Alex to come home to me.

---

The first rays of morning sunlight filtered through the windows, casting long shadows across the apartment.

I was exhausted. My body ached from a night spent curled up on the couch, my head pounding from too much overthinking and not enough sleep. But even now, as daylight crept in, there was no sign of Alex.

The apartment was too quiet. The clock on the wall ticked away the minutes, taunting me with every passing second that he was still missing.

And then—

The sound of the lock turning.

My breath caught.

I shot up from the couch so fast that my vision swam for a moment.

And then I saw him.

Alex.

Walking in like nothing had happened.

His shirt was wrinkled, his hair slightly disheveled, dark circles shadowing his eyes. He looked exhausted, like he hadn't slept all night. But more than that, he looked… guilty.

His eyes found mine, and for a split second, something flickered across his face—regret? Guilt?

Then it was gone, replaced by his usual unreadable expression.

I felt my pulse hammering in my throat.

I had spent all night waiting for him. Worrying about him.

And now, here he was, standing in our doorway as if nothing was wrong.

The rage that had been simmering inside me all night erupted.

"Where the hell were you?" My voice cut through the silence like a blade.

Alex sighed, running a hand down his face. "Sophia—"

"No." I stepped forward, my heart pounding so hard it felt like it was trying to claw out of my chest. "I called you. Over and over. I waited here all night, thinking—" My voice caught, and I hated that it caught. "Thinking something happened to you."

His jaw tightened. "I didn't mean to—"

"Where were you, Alex?" I demanded, voice sharp and unwavering.

Silence.

The kind of silence that speaks louder than words.

Finally, he exhaled, dragging a hand through his hair. "Something came up."

I let out a sharp, humorless laugh. "Something came up? That's what you're going with?"

"I didn't want to worry you," he said quietly.

I scoffed, shaking my head. "Too late for that."

Alex looked away, his hands resting on his hips as if trying to gather his thoughts. "I know how it looks, but it's not what you're thinking."

I crossed my arms. "You don't even know what I'm thinking."

His gaze snapped back to mine. "I do."

"Then prove me wrong." My voice wavered, but I refused to back down. "Where were you?"

He hesitated.

And that hesitation? It told me everything.

My breath hitched. "You were somewhere you shouldn't have been."

Alex's eyes darkened. "Sophia, it's not like that."

"Then tell me what it is."

More silence.

That same awful, suffocating silence.

I took a step back, something inside me breaking. "You can't even say it, can you?"

Alex reached for me. "Soph—"

I flinched away before he could touch me.

For the first time in our relationship, I didn't want him to touch me.

His face fell. "Please don't do this."

I swallowed against the lump in my throat. "I'm not the one doing anything, Alex. You are."

He shut his eyes for a brief moment, exhaling like he was trying to hold something back. When he opened them again, he looked... tired. Defeated.

But not honest.

That was the difference.

And it hit me like a slap.

Alex was keeping something from me.

Something big.

And no matter how much I wanted to believe him, no matter how much I wanted to pretend this was just a misunderstanding...

I knew.

I knew.

I turned away, wrapping my arms around myself, the ache in my chest unbearable.

I had spent the night waiting for him, waiting for the man I trusted to walk through that door and prove me wrong.

But now that he was here?

I realized the person I had been waiting for didn't exist anymore.

Or maybe, just maybe… he never had.