Chapter 4

"Still not done moving? Want me to send a few guys over to help?" Was what he wanted to say when she picked up.

Instead of Sydney's voice, however, he heard a cold automated recording.

"I'm sorry. The number you have dialed is no longer in service."

Bastian froze.

Laughter and conversation still filled the room, but suddenly, it felt as though all the air had been sucked out of it. Frowning, he quickly hung up and dialed again, only to hear the same crisp recorded message.

"What's wrong, Bastian?"

Molly noticed his rigid expression and reached out to touch his arm.

"Get away from me!"

He shoved her aside so abruptly that red wine spilled across the floor. His face had gone deathly pale. Snatching his car keys off the coffee table, he bolted out the door like a madman.

His childhood friends exchanged bewildered looks, the smiles not yet gone from their faces.

Bastian tore through the night in his Maybach, running two red lights along the way. His grip on the steering wheel was so tight that the veins stood out on the backs of his hands.

He kept telling himself there had to be a simple explanation. Maybe her phone service had been suspended, or she'd switched SIM cards.

She'd been packing her things just that morning. She loved him so much. How could she possibly leave?

He slammed on the brakes outside their old apartment building and rushed upstairs, practically throwing the familiar metal door open.

"Sydney Lewis! What the hell are you playing at?"

The rest of his furious demand died in his throat as his eyes widened.

There was no luggage. No cardboard boxes.

The apartment stood completely empty, as though it had been stripped bare. Not only were the packed boxes gone, but so were the toothbrushes from the bathroom counter, the clothes from the closet, and the cushions from the sofa. Every last trace of Sydney had been cleared away.

All that remained was the smell of dust.

His legs nearly gave out as he stumbled into the middle of the living room, his gaze locking onto the coffee table.

Only two things had been left there.

One was a plain, unadorned ring.

Back when he had no money, Sydney had helped him pick it out at a street stall as a symbol of their love. She'd worn it for five years without ever taking it off.

Now it lay on top of a single sheet of paper, a separate document Sydney had deliberately spared from the shredder.

With trembling hands, Bastian picked it up. Printed across the page were the words "Wedding Reception Cancellation and Penalty Deduction Confirmation."

The signature was dated yesterday.

Yesterday!

She'd already canceled their wedding reception yesterday, while he was standing outside the new house watching her struggle with the fingerprint scanner and letting his friends laugh at her!

His breathing grew labored, his chest heaving as he finally realized that when she'd told him she was waiting for the movers that morning, she hadn't been giving in. She'd simply been telling him what he wanted to hear.

Just then, in the deathly silent living room, his phone suddenly vibrated.

A text had arrived from an unfamiliar number.

His hands shook as he opened it.

[Bastian Shaw, your desensitization therapy worked.]

[I can finally see you two together without feeling a thing.]

[We're over. Don't come looking for me.]

"Fuck!"

He drove his fist into the white wall so hard that blood immediately seeped from his knuckles, leaving a glaring red stain.

Again and again, he called the number that had sent the message, but every attempt ended with the same cold automated recording.

He refused to believe it.

He couldn't possibly believe that Sydney, the woman who'd once had eyes only for him, who used to call him in tears if he was even ten minutes late, could walk away so completely.

With shaking hands, he called a friend who worked at the airport.

"Find out where Sydney Lewis went! Check today's flights and high-speed trains. Where the hell did she go?"

Five minutes later, his friend called back, sounding conflicted.

"Bastian, I found her. Sydney boarded a flight to Halewick three hours ago."

Something seemed to collapse inside Bastian, leaving his mind reeling.

He jumped back into his car and sped toward the architectural design firm where Sydney had previously worked.

[Consider these five years the price I paid to learn my lesson. You and your little intern deserve each other. I hope you two rotten people are stuck with each other forever.]