FORTY-EIGHT

It’s been two days, and Clarissa wasn’t eating properly. She had been discharged from the hospital and was cooped in her apartment. The hotel manager had been kind enough to give her some days off, and she wasn’t about to take that for granted.

But, still, she felt so hollow. Archer had not called even once. She had no idea where he was, and what he was doing. It drove her half mad. She had not expected that she would feel his absence so deeply.

She had grown accustomed to being with him and the last two days didn’t feel like they belonged to her. If she knew where she would be able to meet him, she would have gone there. She knew that the hotel was the best place he could, but she wouldn’t go there.

She didn’t have the courage. Clarissa stared at the TV blankly. It was nice to have a device at home that took your mind away from certain things, but she wasn’t feeling it so much this afternoon.

Everywhere felt clogged, and she was on the brink of losing control of all her inhibitions.