My Cop Boyfriend Killed My Father

Chapter 7

I didn't touch the watermelon again. I just sat on the sofa, staring blankly at the turned-off television.

After what felt like an eternity, the balcony door slid open, and Ethan walked back inside. "Why didn't you eat the watermelon?"

I didn't dare to look at him, terrified I would see the lingering affection for someone else in his eyes.

"It's too bitter."

"Bitter?" Surprised, Ethan walked over, picked up a slice, and took a bite. "It's not bitter at all."

He sat down beside me and handed me another piece. "Why don't you try another one?"

I didn't take it. Instead, I couldn't stop myself from looking at him and asking, "Who was that on the phone? You were talking for so long."

Ethan paused for a moment, then set the watermelon down. "Grace. We were just discussing some things at the precinct."

He looked completely unbothered, making the doubts harboring in my mind feel incredibly petty and impossible to voice.

I squeezed the throw pillow in my arms a little tighter. "Really?"

"Yeah."

I didn't say anything else, and Ethan didn't offer any more explanation.

The two of us just sat there in silence for a very long time.

The night slowly deepened.

I tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. My mind was flooded with the stark differences between the Ethan of today and the Ethan of the past.

Just then, my phone rang. It was an unfamiliar number.

I answered it, feeling puzzled. "Hello, who's this?"

A raspy, low male voice came from the other end. "Clara, it's Dad."

I froze, and then tears cascaded down my face uncontrollably.

I tried to speak, but the only sound I could make was a choked sob.

In thirteen years, this was the only call, the only contact, I had ever had with Arthur.

I didn't know what to say, and I couldn't even bring myself to utter the word "Dad."

In the end, I only managed to choke out, "Why couldn't you have called sooner? Do you even know... Grandpa passed away!"

The moment the words left my mouth, I broke down, sobbing hysterically.

In the dead of night, my weeping was the only sound echoing through the quiet bedroom.

He listened in silence for as long as I cried.

Once my emotions finally began to settle, I asked him, "When are you coming back?"

Arthur fell silent for a long time.

All I could hear was his heavy breathing. "Just wait a little longer! Clara, give me a little more time. I'll be back soon. I promise, after this, I will never leave you again!"

With that, he hung up the phone.

I frantically dialed the number back, only to hear a robotic female voice:

"We're sorry, the number you have dialed is not in service. Please check the number and try again."

Refusing to believe it, I redialed.

But it still wouldn't go through.

I tried again and again, like a woman possessed.

Until Ethan walked in and caught my hand. "Clara, what's wrong?"

I looked up at him through a blur of tears. "My dad... my dad just called me. But when I try to call him back, it won't go through..."

Ethan didn't say a word.

Through my hot tears, I couldn't make out his expression. I only heard him say, "Give me the number. I'll look into it for you."

I gave it to him.

Then, Ethan left.

Watching his retreating figure, a sudden wave of unease washed over me. "Ethan!"

I called out to stop him, asking his back, "You can find him, right?"

"Yes."

Ethan answered, but he never turned around.

In the dark of the night, I clutched my phone and stared at the un-dialable number, an indescribable anxiety gnawing at my heart.

I waited all night, but Ethan never came back.

It wasn't until the next morning that I found him asleep on the living room couch.

Dark circles under his eyes — he'd clearly been up all night.

There was a manila folder sitting on the coffee table.

Normally I'd never go through his things. But right then I had this nagging feeling the folder had something to do with my father.

I glanced at Ethan, dead asleep, and hesitated. Then I picked it up and opened it.

One sheet of paper inside. And it was my father — his profile, all of it.

But the line across the top read: INTERPOL RED NOTICE.