Lainey POV
I woke up at eight, and the house was too quiet.
I knew it before I opened my eyes. There was no shower running, and no television downstairs. Nobody was dropping boots by the door. I put my hand out, and his side of the bed was flat and cold.
Travis got off at six. He was home by seven, every morning, like clockwork.
I sat up and listened. Then I went to the window. The driveway was empty.
I called him. It rang five times and went to voicemail.
"Hey, it's me. Just checking on you. Call me back."
I made coffee. I didn't drink it. I called again at eight fifteen, and at eight thirty, and I stopped leaving messages.
I told myself all the reasonable things. He had stayed late. He had stopped for gas, or breakfast. His phone was on silent in his pocket.
None of it helped. M
