CHAPTER {6} How The Hell Do I Find You?

First I left her to rot in prison.

Then I sent her fucking divorce papers before she could even breathe free air.

Then I dragged another woman into our bed, into our house, so she’d see it and hate me enough to never look back after I divorce her.

I deliberately ruined the one woman who gave me her heart.

How the fuck do I live with myself?

My hands are still grabbing the steering wheel. 

I've been parked here for almost 20 minutes, staring at the black gate of the Bennetts’ mansion.

Hermione’s inside, I'm sure she's running away from me as far as she can.

How do I explain to my woman that I've been a godforsaken son of a fucking bitch for ever hurting her feelings.

She might spit in my face. She might slap me, or hell, stab me if she’s got something sharp in her tiny hand. And I’d deserve it. Every fucking second of it.

But what scares me the most is if she says she'll never be with me again. Because I won't accept that one for an answer.

I take a deep breath and collapse on my seat, the more I sit out here like a coward, the more she slips further away. 

Every minute wasted is her heart getting colder over me.

“Fuck it.”

I step out of the car and shut the door.

My chest is hammering, I've never been scared of anybody my entire life. But right now, Hermione's anger aimed straight at me, that's something I've never experienced, and I don't know exactly how to navigate that.

I walk up to the gate and my finger hits the bell, after some minutes the gate buzzes open.

It feels strange being here again. The last time I stood on this ground was to ask for Hermione’s hand, to prove myself as her husband. That was the day I made my agenda to deceive her official.

The front door swings, and she steps out.

Kareen Bennett, the girl I thought was Hermione's kid sister.

Baggy jeans hanging on her waist, black crop top that only covered her chest, and messy blonde hair like she woke up and didn't give any care.

Her makeup’s caked on so thick I can’t even remember if this is the same face I saw at the wedding. 

These women are probably shape shifting with the makeup thing.

She smirks when her eyes land on me. “Well, well. Look who decided to visit. The famous husband. I thought you vanished with her,” she says as she approaches me.

She always speaks with her tiny voice that has a hint of mockery in it.

I shove my hands in my pockets, trying to hold myself together, despite the fact that nothing is normal about today.

“I need to see Hermione. Is she in?”

She gives me a sharp laugh instead. “Hermione? You mean the stray dog you finally rid us of? I never got the time to thank you properly.”

“Watch your mouth, Kareen.” I growl, trying to contain my anger.

“Just tell her I’d love to speak with her.”

She tilts her head, like she can’t believe what she’s hearing. “You’re joking, right? The stray hasn’t stepped foot here since your wedding day.”

My heart sinks hearing those words. “So where exactly is she?”

She scoffs, “Shouldn’t you know? You’re her husband. Or maybe she’s doing what she's always good at, running off and acting like the world should revolve around her.”

I clench my jaw so hard my teeth ache. “Kareen… She's your sister.”

Her eyes go flat. “I don’t consider her family, Adam. Attending her wedding? That was just me being nice. I wanted her out of here as soon as possible.”

The words land like blows, but the bitch can't just shut up.

“And look at you, standing here, begging to see her. What a joke. I don’t even know how she managed to land a guy like you. You know?”

She steps closer, her eyes fixed on me, “Unless…You’re into her because she’s easy prey?”

My fists curl in my pockets. “How the fuck does a twenty three year old talk with so much spite and hatred for her own big sister?” I manage to ask.

She rolls her eyes. “Oh, please. What’s there to like about her? She thought she was going to be some world-renowned programmer with that broken-down laptop, skipping the chores she's supposed to be doing as the ‘BIG SISTER’ she called herself?” 

“She was never part of our family.”

Then she waves me off with her hand in the air. 

“Good riddance, Adam. If you find her, don’t bring her back here. She’s not welcome.”

I shake my head, the more she opens her mouth to speak, the more regret claws at me for my own actions against Hermione

“You really are nothing like her.” I say.

Her smile twists. “Good. Because I’d rather die than be a stray.”

She brushes past me and walks out the gate without another word.

I stand there for a few minutes, my chest burning with rage.

That's the woman Elton wanted me to get involved with? God knows how that would have ended.

I'd have committed murder, She'd be so dead and buried the next morning.

My Hermione grew up with people tearing her down, making her feel like she didn’t belong, just because she was adopted? What's the point of this useless drama?

Because she is intelligent and so damn beautiful it hurts them? Is that it?

And then I came along, pretending to love her, dragging her into a mess she doesn't deserve. Breaking her all over again.

That's when it instantly downed on me, how different Hermione is. 

How she loved without holding back, despite being deprived kindness and love in her own family, she's the kindest and most loving girl I've ever met in my entire fucking life.

And that's how she slowly snatched my soul away, but I was so blinded with revenge to see the truth in front of me.

I walk out of the godforsaken compound and head back to my car. I'll definitely have time for them later, but right now all I want is to just find her.

The door shuts and silence fills my head.

My chest is still hurting from how much I've just realized about my own wife.

“Why did you hide so many things from me?” I mutter into the air, as if she's right there to give me answers.

And now? I don’t even know where the hell she is.

I quickly pull my phone out of my pocket and scroll to Hunter’s number. My thumb hesitates for half a second, then I press call.

“Adam? What’s up?” 

“I’m good, man. Where is she?” My throat’s dry as hell and I don't have time for greetings.

But instead of saying something, he gives me that dead silence. That means he knows exactly where she is.

“Hunter? Where’s Hermione?”

My chest pounds like I’m in a damn fight waiting for him to give me answers.

“I don’t know, man.”

I grit my teeth. “The hell do you mean you don’t know?”

“She didn’t tell me where she was headed. She didn’t take any of my help either,” he says.

I drag my hand down my face. “You drove her somewhere, right? Airport? Park? Some place specific? I want fucking names.” My voice is already rising with impatience.

But he gives me nothing, just his deep sigh, like I'm supposed to do something with that.

“Hunter, I need to…”

“Adam!” He cuts me off.

“She was crying like a hopeless person when you threw her out. I don’t know what she did to you, but I think you should just let her be.”

I shut my eyes, my gut twisting with shame and regret. His words hit deeper than I want to admit.

“I just want to know where she is, man.”

“I don’t know,” he blurts out.

“A random car picked her up. A lady was driving and I didn’t bother to ask where they were headed. That’s the last time I saw her.”

“Wait, a lady?” I catch a hint immediately.

“Okay, thanks man.” I hung up without saying any more words.

I lean back in the seat, my brain spinning in circles, trying to remember things.

There’s a friend of hers. She once came by the house, but I only caught her face for a second because I was in a hurry that day.

The only thing I remember is that she's got caramel skin and black curls.

I don't know her name or any details about her.

“Shit.” My fist subtly thumps the wheel. 

“Okay I need to find this friend of hers, maybe she must have gone to be with her.”

Hermione doesn’t have social media. Things could’ve been so damn easy if she did.

I scroll through my contacts and tap my investigators number.

“Hello, Sir?” he answers without wasting a second.

“Wendell, I need you to do something for me.”

~~~

The phone buzzes once before he picks up.

“Sir, I’ve run through everything twice. No face matches the details you gave me.”

I drag my hand down my face in frustration, “Keep looking Wendell. I’ll pay you hefty for this, I already promised you that.”

“Sir, I’ve been on this for two days straight. There’s nothing. No records, no matches at all.”

My jaw grinds. “You’re telling me you found nothing? Nothing at all?”

“You haven’t figured out the woman’s name yet?” he asks.

I shut my eyes. “No. I never knew her name.”

“And you said the last time you saw her was three years ago? For only a few seconds, right?”

“Yes,” I responded, hating how weak the information I gave him actually is.

He exhales heavily into the line. “Then we don’t have much detail to work with. I'm sorry, Sir.”

“Damn!” My hand lands against the glass desk of my office, head dropping into my palms.

The line falls silent. Wendell has nothing else to give me.

“How the hell do I find you, Hermione?”