Page 110 of Xander

I’d burn this fucking world down to find her.

One week.

Jordan had been missing for one week, and there had been radio silence on her whereabouts. No matter how much I pressured the security team, they couldn’t find any leads besides the car she ditched.

I resorted to sending her emails and messaging her socials. I even texted her on the off chance she logged into her cloud to check her messages. I became obsessed with finding any scrap of information that might lead me to her.

As the days passed, eating seemed inconsequential when she wasn’t the one cooking it, with a nod to my preferences. Sleeping was frivolous in our cold bed without the greeneries she added to create warmth. Nothing made sense without her.

I couldn't function like this anymore. Her absence had created a gaping hole in my existence, and all I could do to fill it was compulsively track her last known location.

Rewinding the tape, I restarted the security footage of Jordan driving away in Henry’s gunmetal Mustang. The rental car was found in an abandoned lot that was too remote for public transportation or cabs. Considering Jordan left behind her cell phone and the credit cards I had given her, someone must’ve ordered her an Uber.

The security team had been diligently watching passport control for her name, but there had been nothing so far.

How would she even book a flight? She had no money, and I was in possession of her passport.

All the same, I tracked the credit cards I had given her, looking for clues. I pored over the phone she left behind as if my life depended on it. She never used it unless she checked on Jasper and occasionally scrolled through the social media profiles of two people—me and Piya, her former best friend.

Guilt pierced me when I realized I should’ve pushed her into reconciling with her estranged friend. I knew Henry was the reason they had a fallout. If I were supposed to be a good thing in Jordan’s life and the “right” man, then why didn’t I encourage her to reunite with her best friend?

I had been too consumed with my obsession and forgot to ask myself if she was happy with this arrangement. I had isolated Jordan completely, and now that I was totally alone, it sickened me to think this was how I’d made her feel.

I missed practice this week and had racked up fines with the league. I didn’t care. What was the point of money, fame, or a career without her?

Jasper informed my teammates of what happened before heading back to college. If they hadn’t shown up to haul my ass, I would’ve missed the game, too. It turned out that slamming people on the ice was the only way to deal with my rage. After every goal, I’d still point a thumb at the net and then at the camera on the off chance she was watching me.

Otherwise, I was numb and unraveling.

My body was rebelling against me, pining for her like an addict craving their next fix. I couldn’t do anything without thinking of her. Her last expression haunted me before she disappeared, the one accusing me of betraying her in the worst way. It was painfully evident that Jordan not only wanted to get away from Henry but from me as well.

But I was entirely different from a megalomaniac like Henry, wasn’t I? He wanted to control her because he was a narcissist, whereas what I felt for Jordan was an indescribable need. She might’ve been angry about my control issues, but she was the one to make me paranoid by refusing to give herself fully to me. She was my life. I gave her every part of me, but she held back. She couldn’t even tell me she loved me without it being a lie.

Did that make a difference?

I guess not.

Somewhere along the line of fighting Henry, I had become the very thing I hated. I spent so much time finding a way to make her stay with me that I forgot to enjoy the moments we did spend together. I tried to box her in at every turn, and now, I’d happily rip away those conservatorship papers if it meant she’d come home to me.

Her escape was the wake-up call I needed, except I couldn’t even tell her I’d learned my lesson.

I was alone, and it was all because of my own actions. If she wanted to punish me, she had succeeded in finding the perfect way to do so. She had cast my life in darkness, stealing every piece of sunshine from me, and I couldn’t blame her.

This darkness was my penance for everything I had done to her.

Chapter

Thirty-Six

JORDAN

I woke up to the sound of birds singing, and for a moment, I experienced that disorienting blur of not knowing where I was that had become second nature to me for a while. But then, I heard the slightly higher pitch of the backing trucks down below and the unfamiliar shouts of people calling to one another in French, and I remembered exactly where I was: in my little rented apartment above a coffee shop in Le Marais, deep in the 4th arrondissement.

It had been one lonely week since I arrived in Paris. The first thing I did was lease a fully furnished short-term rental. Otherwise, I had been careful about using the cash from Piya, who insisted on sending more through Western Union. I was too nervous about leaving a paper trail, however, as Xander would’ve presumed I’d enlist the help of my former best friend and monitor her transactions.

The only things I bought were some clothes and a new burner phone, which I used sparingly to call Piya. I was so grateful to my dear friend that it was worth the money.

“I don’t know if I can ever repay you,” I told her, over and over during our now daily chats. “You must think I’m awful.”