Page 43 of The Call She Made That He Never Answered
When Ella said that, the blood in my veins turned cold.
Her attitude was too strange. I could hear intense anger in her tone. She was still furious. So everything happening now—was this just her venting emotions on impulse?
"Ella, we should talk." I softened my voice, trying to regain control. "We're married. What gives you the right to divorce me without a single word of explanation?"
"If you just called to pick a fight, I'm blocking you."
Her words struck me as absurd.
"Block me? Ella, what the hell are you doing? You think this is fair to me?" I gripped the phone tighter, that sense of being shut out making my nose sting, but more than that, a provoked indignation. "You didn't even give me a hint. You just silently left a divorce agreement and moved out. You made every decision unilaterally without giving me a chance to talk face-to-face. We've lived together for two years. Don't I even deserve a proper explanation? Tell me your address! Tell me where you are. I'll come right now. We need to meet!"
If she was playing some disappearing act to get my attention, she'd succeeded. Just like that time she used Mrs. Hughes to trick me into coming back to our room. I'd compromise for her. Again and again.
"Unless it's to sign divorce papers, there's nothing to discuss." She spoke rapidly, her tone resolute.
I froze.
Did Ella know what she was saying?
"Lucas, let me go. It's better for both of us. Where I am doesn't concern you anymore. Don't waste your time looking for me."
The next second, she hung up.
I swore viciously and called back. The phone rang a few times before she hung up again.
I wouldn't give up. I called again.
This time, the phone barely rang—not even half a ring—before cutting off, then a cold robotic voice directed me to voicemail.
Ella had kept her word.
She'd blocked my number.
That realization felt like ice water dumped over my head, freezing me to the core. I'd never imagined a day when Ella would unilaterally cut off contact. She wouldn't even give me a chance to speak, which meant she wanted nothing to do with me. She used to be the woman who loved me most in the world, but now she dared to abandon me.
Something blocked my chest. I couldn't breathe.
I could handle acquisitions with terrifying amounts of information, but I couldn't handle my own marriage. That sense of defeat made me burn with frustration. What gave her the right to walk away so decisively?
I closed my eyes and sat in my office chair for a while, forcing myself to calm down, then dialed Saint Heart Sanatorium.
"Hello, is Maya Bruce available?"
"I'm sorry, sir." The receptionist's voice was polite with formulaic courtesy. "Ms. Bruce completed all transfer procedures yesterday."
"Transfer?" My voice cracked, almost a shout. "Where to?"
"I'm sorry, that's patient privacy. We can't disclose that information."
The call ended again.
I slumped in my office chair, staring despairingly at the darkened phone screen, one thought consuming me: Maya was gone too.
Maya was critically ill. Only Ella could have taken her.
This was premeditated, not some impulsive decision.
Drafting divorce papers, contacting Maya's next hospital... Everything took time. Yet during all that preparation, I hadn't noticed any clues. I never imagined Ella capable of such cunning. I turned it over and over in my mind but couldn't figure out why she'd left.
