Eliana scrolled through her phone again.
Nothing.
The clock read 10:17 a.m. The last message she'd gotten from Nicky was two nights ago.
She hadn't said anything—not during Sunday dinner at Renee's, not after. Not even when she sat on the edge of her bed that night, rereading his last message for the fifth time.
"Good. i'll dm you when i'm free."
He'd driven her back to her apartment after Chinon, kissed her cheek, told her to take her time getting ready for dinner. She never saw him again that day.
At 5:38 p.m., she got a text.
"Sorry. Emergency at home. Had to cancel. Rain check?"
No explanation. No voice note. No follow-up.
Now, sitting at her desk at work, she checked her phone for the fourth time that hour. Still nothing. No missed calls. No DMs. Not even a reaction to her Instagram story.
She remembered how his hand had slid over her waist in that weekend, slow and reverent, like he couldn't believe he was touching her. The memory made her chest tighten.
