Page 21 of Words We Didn't Say

Exhaustion sunk like concrete in my bones. Barangaroo wasn’t far—maybe ten minutes from the business district—and it was quiet this late. No tourists. Almost no traffic. Usually, the walk was a circuit-breaker between the grind and home. My listeningskills were piss poor, but the walk helped me to at least manage a smile by the time I opened the front door.

My phone buzzed in my pocket.

A dopey smile spread across my face.

Please be Eden.

For the first time in months, I might make it home early enough for her to chuck on the new TV show she’d been raving about. I was six episodes behind, but I remembered enough of the characters’ names to keep up as she gasped through the latest twists and turns.

I glanced at my phone. Not Eden. Michaela. I stopped dead in my tracks. A taxi screeched to a halt in front of me, and I waved a quick apology at the driver as I jogged to the other side of the street.

Mac

Can I tempt you to reconsider?

I snorted so loud a woman walking on the street whipped a frantic look at me before hurrying to the other side.

What the hell was Michaela playing at? Why wasn’t she taking the hint?

I’d already hit the red cross to delete her message when my phone buzzed again. Reflex dragged my eyes down to the screen.

“Shit!”

A dry retch of shock jolted through me, and my phone flew out of my hand, plunging face down into the gutter with a crack. I didn’t care if the screen was smashed. If I never saw that photo again, it’dstillbe too soon. A shudder rippled over my skin.

Naked. So much...naked.

I bent over, my hand shaking as it curled around my phone. Fighting the puke burning a path up my throat and one eye squeezed shut—as if that somehow limited the possibility ofseeing anything I shouldn’t—I frantically jabbed a finger at the screen until Michaela’s photo disappeared.

Gone.

I’ve never typed a message so fast.

Zach

Mac, this is a work phone. Keep it professional. First and last warning.

My finger hovered over the block button. Should I?CouldI?

Michaela was on the financing side for most of my clients. How much of a shitstorm would start thundering if I deleted her or if I took it a step further and refused to work with her altogether? It was a no-confidence motion. She’d be in Chris’s crosshairs, and with his engagement announced, maybe she was already treading through risky territory. He might be looking for an excuse to fire her and keep the drama to a minimum. It wouldn’t be the first time. He’d fired people for a lot less.

Sighing, I shoved my phone back in my pocket.

I’d worry about how to get rid of Michaela tomorrow.

I eased open thefront door. A smile cracked the frown off my face. Eden’s boxes were gone. She’d unpacked.

Day thirty-four.

Finally.

Every light in the apartment burned. Chuckling, I followed my usual routine, wandering through the rooms, flicking off the switches, and searching for Eden’s final hiding spot for the night. My hand hovered over the switch in the bedroom. This was the last room, but…

Where was she?

I walked through each room again, ducking into the ensuite to use the bathroom. I paused. The vanity was spotless. The potions Eden used for her bedtime skincare routine were missing. My stomach plummeted when my gaze landed on the cup with only one toothbrush in it. I forced a smile and tried to brush the dread away. She’d probably gone on one of her cleaning frenzies. She did that sometimes. Usually, the day or two before her period, but that wasn’t due yet…was it?

I swallowed heavily, not sure if my skin was burning up or freezing cold, and tugged a hand through my hair.

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