Sarah'sPOV
The sun was setting, casting a golden hue over the city skyline as I packed my things, ready to head home. The office was quieter than usual, the rhythmic tapping of keyboards replaced by muffled conversations as my colleagues slowly trickled out. I stretched, rolling my shoulders to ease the stiffness from hours spent in front of my computer.
It had been a long day, but the thought of dinner with the man I love- Hector, made everything worthwhile. I couldn't wait for Tonight's date night with Hector, i already brought out my dress, and left it hanging on the wardrobe before I left for work by 6:45am. We hadn't seen each other in days—his job had been keeping him busy, and I'd buried myself in projects too. But finally, we had time. Just us.
As I reached for my phone, a small smile played on my lips. It had become a ritual—texting him before we met, reconfirming our plans, even though we both knew neither of us would cancel. Before I could type, a notification popped up.
A message from Hector.
I grinned, smiled on my lips expecting something sweet as usual. Maybe a teasing Can't wait to see you or a playful Better wear that dress I love message.
I hurriedly unlocked my phone. Then my breath caught in my throat.
"Sarah, this is goodbye."
I blinked.
For a second, my brain refused to process the words. Goodbye?
I read it again.
"Sarah, this is goodbye."
My heart slammed against my ribcage.
The words blurred for a moment as I blinked rapidly, my fingers trembling around the phone. My breath hitched, and for a brief second, I convinced myself I had read it wrong.
Goodbye?
I stared at the screen, waiting—hoping—for another message to follow. An explanation. A correction.
Nothing.
The office around me faded, the distant sound of chairs scraping and conversations merging into a dull hum. My fingers moved on their own, dialing his number.
Ring.
Ring.
Ring.
Voicemail. "Hey, it's Hector. Leave a message."
I called again.
Voicemail.
A slow panic crept up my spine. This had to be a mistake. Hector wouldn't—he couldn't—just leave.
I tried again. And again. And again.
Still no answer.
I stood abruptly, gripping my phone so tightly my knuckles turned white. My chair scraped against the floor, drawing a few curious glances from my remaining coworkers.
Grabbing my bag, I rushed out, barely registering the cool evening breeze hitting my face as I stepped outside.
HECTOR'S APARTMENT
I don't remember much of the drive to Hector's apartment. Just that my hands gripped the wheel too tight, my stomach twisted in knots, and my brain kept screaming. By the time I reached Hector's apartment, my heart was racing. The streets had grown quieter, the city lights flickering as dusk settled in. The Elevated was taking forever to open and I couldn't wait any more second standing so I took the stairs instead - I took the stairs two at a time, my breath shallow.
I stood in front of his door and I knocked.
No answer.
I knocked again, harder this time. "Hector!" I shouted his name.
But.Silence.
A knot formed in my stomach.I stepped back, panic rising like bile in my throat. I fished my phone out and called him again. Voicemail.
I pressed my forehead against the door, my breathing ragged. Where was he? "Where are you Hector?" I whispered - my heart yearned for a response.
Then, I heard movement. "Hector?"
I stepped back, glancing around, and my eyes met an elderly woman peeking from the neighboring apartment. Mrs. Reynolds—Hector's neighbor.
She frowned as she stepped closer. "Are you looking for Hector, dear?"
"Yes," I said quickly. "Have you seen him?" *Please say yes.*
Her lips pressed into a thin line. "Yes", she frowned, hesitating as if careful with her next words she continued "He left."
My stomach dropped. "What do you mean, he left?"
"He moved out this morning. Had some men come over, took all of his things." She shook her head, voice laced with concern. "Didn't say much, just that he was going away for a while". My fingers curled into fists. *Who was he with? Why didn't he tell me?*
I felt my legs weak and so I placed my hand on the wall to get a balance, my mind spiraling. None of this made sense. A heavy weight pressed against my chest. "That's not possible. He never said anything about leaving." She sighed, sympathy in her gaze. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. But he's gone."
Gone. This word felt like a dagger to my heart.
The word echoed in my head as I numbly turned toward the door. "Gone?" I said with disbelief. With shaking hands, I reached for the knob and twisted.
Unlocked. This is strange
The moment I stepped inside, the silence hit me like a fist.