ARIA
I don't mean to, but the longer Ryder stays gone, the more I worry about him.
Where could he be?
Judging by my calculations and what he told me, Ryder should've been back by now. It's two in the afternoon.
I rub my hands and pace the floor of the living area. Occasionally, I peer out the window to stare at the stairs below, hoping to spot him. At this point, I don't know what's instinct and what's paranoia.
I have this strong feeling that something is wrong but I don't want to entertain it. Maybe I'm just imagining the worst. In the morning, I didn't want him to go. The urge to wrap my arms around his neck and never let him go was strong, but of course, I knew it would be crazy to do that.
Now, I'm starting to regret not mentioning something and acting on that bad feeling.
