10. The First Call

Ethan's POV

I hadn’t slept not even for a minute. The mansion was quiet, the kind of silence that made my thoughts feel like screaming in my head. I kept pacing back and forth, running my hands through my black hair and my green eyes burning with exhaustion and frustration. Every time I closed my eyes, I saw her. Lena. Her blue eyes, her blond hair, the way she used to look at me. And then the papers. That moment on our anniversary, the cold stack of destruction she’d been handed instead of a gift.

I had divorced her. I ws the one that ended it. But my body, my heart it haven't gotten the memo. I didn’t want this. I didn’t want her gone. And not knowing where she was, not knowing if she was safe, if she was alone, if she was crying like I was, was driving me insane.

I stopped pacing and grabbed my phone staring at her number, my thumb trembling over it. I couldn’t call her. I couldn’t. I didn’t know what I would say, and I didn’t know what I wanted. I only knew that I had to do something. I couldn’t sit here, helpless while she disappeared from my life completely.

I pulled up my laptop fingers shaking as I typed in the name of a private investigator I had used before. Someone who didn’t ask questions, someone who could find people, someone who could locate her. I wrote a short message: Find her. Anywhere she might be. Hotels, flights, contacts. I don’t care what it costs. I need to know where she is.

And then I waited. I paced bck and forth. The seconds dragged into hours. My stomach twisted every time I thought about her being out there, maybe smiling, maybe laughing, maybe starting over without me. I hated it. I hated that I couldn’t see her. I hated that I didn’t know where she was. I hated that a part of me still hoped she’d reach out, even though I had pushed her away.

The thought that she could be moving on, living without me, made my blood boil. I had divorced her, yes, but my mind kept screaming that I hadn’t truly let her go. That I couldn’t. That I would never be able to. Every plan I had made in my life, every control I thought I had, was gone the second she disappeared.

I imagined her walking down streets I didn’t know, walking into stores I couldn’t see, maybe thinking about me and not knowing how much I was hurting. The uncertainty was worse than anything. I needed to know she was okay, but I also needed her to remember that I loved her, that I wanted her back. And yet I had no idea where she was. I had nothing.

I sank into my chair, rubbing my face with my hands. My chest ached. My mind was a storm. I wanted to scream. I wanted to call her and beg her to come back. I wanted to find her myself even if it meant crossing the country. But I couldn’t. Not yet. I had to be patient, but patience was not my strength. Every instinct in me, every nerve in my body, screamed to act, to take control, to find her before she slipped any further away.

I thought about all the times we had shared. Our childhood memories. The way we had grown together. Our marriage. The promises. I had broken them, or at least I thought I had. And the thought that she might forgive me, might come back to me, was a fire that burned alongside the ache of missing her.

I went back to the investigator, pacing again, thinking through every scenario. Where could she be? Was she hiding in some small town, working in some café, trying to forget me? Or was she living boldly, daring me to find her? I didn’t know. And the not knowing was the worst.

I felt like I was unraveling. My hands shook, my chest was tight, my stomach churned with a mix of longing and rage. I had divorced her, yes, but I had not given up. I couldn’t. I wouldn’t. Lena was mine in every way that mattered, even if she didn’t know it, even if she was a thousand miles away. And I would find her.

Somewhere out there, she was breathing, living, existing without me. And that thought made me feel helpless and alive at the same time. I hated that I couldn’t reach her, hated that she could be anywhere, hated that she was free of me. But I wouldn’t let it stay that way. I would track her. I would find her. I would bring her back.

I sat back in my chair, staring at the blank wall, chest heaving. I had no leads yet. I had no idea where she was. But I had resolve. I had obsession. I had love. And that was enough to keep me moving, to keep me thinking, to keep me planning. I would find Lena Blackwood and she would know that I had never stopped, never would stop, loving her.