Page 88 of Wild For You

“When did he ask you to take him to the airport?”

Her warm eyes meet mine, hesitating. But why? She’s considering whether to lie, but she won’t. I know it. “He asked us yesterday. He wanted to be picked up at six sharp.”

“Right. Of course.” I storm inside, leaving Margaret staring after me. Once I’ve reached my bedroom, I grab my phone. My finger hovers over the touchscreen.

I have to call Shannon. But what should I tell her? That Cash has just disappeared on me? I sink down onto my bed, my hands shaking.

Cash is an adult. He doesn’t have to tell me a damn thing. I have no right to inquire where he is.

Even though he told me that he loved me, we’re not in a relationship.

Absentmindedly, I swipe my finger over the screen. I’m on the way back to the kitchen when it lights with three texts, all from him.

I stop mid-stride.

My heart thuds as I read the first text.

Cash: Business emergency. Had to take the first plane.

Ifrown. That’s a lie given that he knew he had to leave and could have told me last night.

I move on the second text.

Cash: Won’t be back before the weekend. Please water the plants.

My frown deepens. Please water the plants? What the fuck?

The last message reads:

Cash: Enjoy your week off. I don’t know when I’ll be back.

That’s it? No more info? And why the formality? We fucked a few hours ago, and he treats me like I’m a mere employee.

The arrogant SOB.

I read the text messages over and over again, trying to make sense of them. But I don’t understand what’s going on. I don’t understand why he’s being the way he is.

I should be grateful that he texted at all, but all those weeks together, his declaration of love and him telling me that I was important to him, they all made me feel like something magical was happening between us.

Clearly, I was wrong.

Maybe he wanted me to sleep in, get some rest. But why ask Margaret’s husband to drive him to the airport knowing I would have wanted to drive him?

Unless he thought I might ask questions. Questions he didn’t want to answer.

But why?

My heart skips a beat, then another. Without thinking, I start to type, my anger flaring up again.

Me: Why didn’t you tell me you needed to leave? I could have driven you to the airport.

Iwait a few minutes. When it’s clear he has decided to ignore me, I draft another text.

Me: Where are you? Please call me as soon as you can. I’m worried. Tell me what’s going on.

Half an hour later, there’s still no reply, no sign he’s even read my messages. With every passing hour I get more anxious, unable to do anything but stare at the cell phone in my hand. I’m so anguished that I brush off Margaret as she offers to take me shopping.

As if Cash’s sudden aloofness isn’t bad enough, my sister texts me, forcing me to lie.

---