RHETT
I haven’t slept.I haven’t eaten. I haven’t worked out. I feel like a soggy pancake sitting on a plate, slowly falling to pieces. The sun is already climbing up again as I stare out the window. I don’t even think I’ve blinked in the last half-hour.
My apartment is quiet. Too quiet. Only sporadic sounds of creaking wood or my own slow breaths distract me from her voice running around in my head.
“What do men want in a wife?”
Jesus Christ.
I drag my hand across my jaw, feeling two days’ worth of stubble scrape my palm as I get to my feet and pace into the living room. The space is spartan, minimal. I have a couch, a coffee table, a television, and a treadmill in the corner. It’s always been fine. I’ve never needed anything more.
Until now…
Now she’s everywhere. I see her face in
