Archie’s POV
I reread her final message–cold, measured, final.
“Hope you enjoy your wedding. Don’t bother checking in. We’ll be no longer your worries.”
It pissed me off now. 1
Not my worries? I slammed the phone on the desk, jaw clenched.
Why couldn’t she see what kind of hell I’ve been stuck in?
I didn’t think. I just typed.
“Are you out of your damn mind, Sabrina? Flying home without a word? That’s real mature.”
“You think you can just go back to your old life like none of this ever happened? You gave birth to my daughter–our daughter.
You don’t get to just bail.”
“If you come back, I won’t be this mad, alright? Couples fight. We can work this out.”
“Relax. I didn’t marry Betty. It was all for show. I told you–you were always going to be my only Mrs. Valez.”
And I hit send.
I waited.
A whole day and a whole damn night.
Nothing. No call. No message. No sign she was still on the other end.
I’d called her so many times I lost count. The ringing became the only background noise in my office.
After wrapping up what I could at the casino, I made a decision I’d been avoiding–I went to our apartment. Our place. Sabrina couldn’t have really just left. Not like this.
But when I got there, I froze.
The landlord was outside, planting a fresh SOLD sign in the front garden.
I stormed over. “Who the hell sold this place?”
He blinked. “Miss Marcellus herself, Mr. Valez. Two days ago.”
Two days? My legs went weak. Sabrina sold the apartment when I texted her that I will be back after sorting everything out?
+15 Bonus
8
I kicked the door open.
The inside was completely empty. Completely stripped. No furniture. No art. No Elly drawings taped to the fridge. No signs of life.
The living room, once covered in polaroids Sabrina had taken of the three of us—our trips, our messy mornings, Elly’s milestones- —was barren. The memory board we nailed up together was still there… but scorched. Half–burned photos clung to
the frame in ashes.
Sabrina didn’t pack those memories. She destroyed them.
I remembered her smile, camera in hand. “I take photos to remember the good days,” she used to say. “So we don’t forget how far we’ve come.”
Hundreds of pictures. Now just blackened edges.
