Page 28 of The Marriage Narrative
Why would they do…thatwith Sadie’s present? It didn’t make sense. Wylie was the mastermind and Lulie usually reined him in, keeping their antics reasonable. Unless it hadn’t been their idea. Someone must’ve asked them to do it.
“Oh, calm down, honey. I’m sure Alfie’s wife can handle a little prank.” His mom turned to him. “Can’t she?”
His dad subtly shook his head, the warning look in his eyes clear:Keep it civil.
Jordan flexed his jaw, biting back what he’d wanted to say. Again. “I’m gonna go check on her.”
But the bathroom was empty. Same for the adjoining bedroom.
“This is not happening.” Eyes closed, he pinched the bridge of his nose, breathing deeply while counting to ten. He made it to five before Zinnia’s face flashed in his mind. Shocked, embarrassed,hurt—all in rapid succession. “Where is she?”
His camera pod stared blankly at him, continuing to film as if he hadn’t asked a question.
“I know her pod radioed it in. Where is she?”
They all wore earpieces like damn secret service agents to stay in communication. No one was ever alone or missing while under their watch. James silently nodded toward the sliding glass door.
“Did she leave?Did she take a car?” She only knew where the garage was, and all the keys were hung on the wall.
James shook his head and mouthed,Bungalow.
He exhaled into a frustrated growl. “You could’ve led with that!” A spontaneous headache bloomed right between his eyes. The next few months were going to be hell on his blood pressure.
“Sorry,” James whispered. “It’s only our second day.”
And he’d yelled at newbies. The day truly kept getting better and better.
Jordan found Mabel first, waiting on the porch again.
“Your wife catches on quick.” She held out her hand for his mic. “This better not become a habit.”
He dropped it in her palm without breaking his stride.
The bungalow had an open floor plan with a vaulted ceiling. It was fully furnished, from kitchen to sitting area and every space in between. Filled with bland neutrals—creams, browns, and grays—lifeless and boring. He had no idea who was responsible for making it look like a house flipper’s dream instead of a well-loved home. It wasn’t his mom’s usual style. She’d never overlook someone else taking charge.
“Zinnia? Are you in here?” He hesitated in the entryway after taking off his shoes.
The distinct sound of a sniffle came from the step-down living room directly in front of him. Only Zinnia’s forehead and reddened eyes were visible as she peered at him from behind the arm of the couch.
Jordan stared in disbelief as he went to her. She washidingin thecorner. Sitting on the floor, squeezed between the wall and the couch, knees pulled to her chest. Dried frosting still clung to her hairline.
“I didn’t know where else to go. Nobody answered when I called.” She bit her trembling lip. Her voice sounded so small and scared and—
He couldn’t breathe.
Besides the blistering anger he felt toward his family, he’d thought he was steady. In control. There was nothing to indicate that his entire body was gearing up to betray him. Nothing to prepare him for the wave of sheer panic and adrenaline flooding his system.
It started in his chest, crushing the life out of his lungs and heart. Eyes frozen wide. Ears ringing. Hands simultaneously stiff and shaking.
“I—” he tried as his mouth dried out. “You—” He cleared his throat and flexed his hand. “Can I—” When his knees buckled, he gave in and sat down in front of her.
If she wanted to sit in the corner, the very least he could do was sit there too.
“Are you okay?” he whispered. It was all he could manage.
“Physically, yeah.” Her arms tightened as she tried to squeeze herself smaller. “Emotionally? Mentally? A little fucked up, thanks so much for asking.” Even upset, her humor shone through with a sardonic smile.
He nodded, counting the seconds until he felt calm enough to speak again. “The twins playing pranks is a storyline,” he explained, measured and raspy. “I thought they would’ve picked something for both of us. Together. I didn’t think they’d do…thatto you.”
