Chapter 2
The next day, Jose was in a good mood after his morning meeting. The situation with Alivia had been dealt with. I had taken the money, so he was convinced that I would probably behave myself for a while.
He glanced at his watch. It was ten o'clock. Thinking I should be at my office by now, he decided he would drop by, a sort of peace offering.
Despite everything, the fact remained that we were still husband and wife, and he knew we couldn't stay at a standstill forever.
Beneath the office building, Jose brought his car to a halt. He entered the familiar lobby, noting the receptionist's hesitant, shifting gaze as she recognized him. Without a word of acknowledgement, he walked past her and made his way directly to marketing.
The office was quiet since everyone focused on their work. But the moment Jose entered, he could feel the atmosphere shift. People glanced up at him and quickly looked down again.
A frown deepened on his face as his gaze swept across the room. Eventually, his eyes settled on a familiar desk, only to find it deserted. The surface was stripped clean, and the monitor was dark. I was nowhere to be found.
Jose's expression darkened. He stopped a passing employee. "Where is Summer Hayes?"
The man jumped, stammering, "Ms... Ms. Hayes didn't come in today."
"Where is she?" Jose asked.
"I-I don't know," the employee replied nervously.
Jose's patience evaporated. He strode directly to the human resources department.
The HR manager, Kate Shaw, shot up from her desk when she saw him. "Mr. Trevino, what brings you here?"
"I'm looking for Summer Hayes," he said coldly. "Where is she?"
Kate's expression was hard to read. She pushed her glasses up her nose, opened a drawer, and handed Jose a piece of paper. "Ms. Hayes started her leave today."
Upon taking the document, Jose found himself staring at a leave application. My name was signed with a flourish, displaying a level of confidence that felt entirely foreign to him.
In the column designated for the purpose of the leave read "Marriage Leave." The duration was marked for twelve days.
Marriage leave?
For a second, his mind went blank.
We had been married for three years but had never taken a honeymoon because he was always "too busy."
He demanded an explanation for the sudden timing of the request and why he had been kept entirely in the dark.
A surge of irrational anger flooded him. He pulled out his phone and dialed my number.
The cold, mechanical female voice echoed from the receiver, "Your call has been forwarded to an automatic voice message system. The subscriber you are trying to reach is not available."
Disbelief flashed across Jose's features as he realized I had actually shut him out. Determined to prove it was a mistake, he placed a second call, but the automated system offered no reprieve. The results remained the same: my phone was powered down.
A sudden chill swept through the room. Frozen in place, Kate hardly dared to draw a breath.
Jose took a deep breath, forcing his anger down as he pressed the call button once more. A connection was made, yet the response was even colder than before. An automated voice informed him with clinical indifference that the number was no longer in service.
It was a dead number. Shaken, Jose remained motionless, trapped between the sight of the handwritten "Marriage Leave" and the sound of the automated rejection. A cold, uncontrollable panic surged through him, tightening around his heart like a vice for the first time.
He stood frozen, the color draining from his face.