Chapter 3

“We need to find him,” I break the silence pacing the living room. “Call Ethan. Jack might have talked to him. They’re best friends. If anyone knows what’s going on, it’s Ethan.”

Ethan was Amy’s husband; the four of us had been friends since college. Jack and Ethan had been inseparable since childhood, going to the same schools and eventually meeting Amy and me around the same time. If Jack was in trouble or had something on his mind, he would have confided in Ethan. He had to have.

Amy hesitates; her face clouded with doubt.

"Rachael, if Ethan knew something, he would’ve told me by now. I don’t think we should involve him in this. It’ll just make things more complicated."

I stopped pacing and glared at her, my frustration boiling over. "Right now, Amy, I don’t care about complications. I’d involve the entire planet if that’s what it takes to get answers."

Amy sighs and reluctantly pulls out her phone. She dialed Ethan’s number and pressed it to her ear. After a few rings, she lowered the phone with a frown. "He’s not picking up."

I grabbed my car keys from the coffee table and headed toward the door. "We have to go see him now," I said.

"Rachael, wait!" Amy jumped up, following me. "You need to calm down. You’re scaring me."

"Are you coming or not?" I shout, my voice trembling with desperation.

Amy’s eyes widen, but she doesn’t argue. Instead, she snatches the keys from my hand.

"Okay, fine, but I’m driving," she says firmly.

We leave the apartment in silence. The car ride to Amy and Ethan’s house took longer than usual, neither of us saying a word. I was too wrapped up in my thoughts, replaying every moment with Jack over the last few months, searching for some hidden clues that I had missed. Amy kept her hands tight on the wheel, stealing nervous glances at me every now and then.

Before Amy could even park properly in the driveway, I jump out of the car and sprint to the front door. My heart pounding in my chest, my fingers trembling as I bang on the door with all my might.

"Ethan!" I yell, banging again. "Open the door!"

Silence.

I bang harder this time, my voice cracking with urgency. "Ethan! Open up!"

Finally, the door swings open, revealing a frustrated-looking Ethan. His face is a mix of anger and confusion. "Are you insane?" he shouts, stepping forward. "I’m working!"

I stare at him, my chest heaving with the force of my emotions. "Jack’s gone," I said breathlessly. "He left me, Ethan. I need to know where he is. Did he talk to you? Did he say anything?"

Ethan’s face softens for a split second, his eyes flicking over to Amy, who was standing behind me with a worried expression. He sighs, rubbing a hand across his face. "Come inside. Let’s talk."

"I need you to breathe," Ethan says, his voice low but firm. "Amy, get her a glass of water."

Amy rushes into the kitchen, and I try to slow my breathing, but my heart is still pounding, my thoughts racing. A moment later, she returns with the glass, pressing it into my hands.

"Thanks," I mutter, taking a small sip before setting it down. "But I think I might need something stronger." I shot a look toward Amy. "Pour me a shot of whiskey."

Amy and Ethan exchange worried glances. "Are you sure you want to drink?" Ethan asks, his concern clear in his tone.

"Yes," I answer firmly, not in the mood for coddling.

With a sigh, Amy turns and walks back to the kitchen, rummaging through the fridge. A few moments later, she comes back with a shot glass filled with whiskey and hands it to me. The amber liquid slosh in the glass as I raise it to my lips and down it in one go. The burn is immediate, but it barely registers compared to the fire burning in my chest.

I slump down into a chair, the weight of everything hitting me all at once. "Ethan, have you seen or spoken to Jack today?" I finally ask, my voice shaking. "I came home after my birthday lunch with Amy, and I found all his things gone. Can you tell me what’s going on?"

I watch Ethan closely as I asked the question, and his face falters—just for a moment. His reaction wasn’t surprise. It was something else. A flicker of guilt? Or maybe it was knowledge he was trying to hide.

"Ethan,", my voice hardening. "You know something. Spill. Right now."

Ethan hesitates, looking between me and Amy before running a hand through his hair. "Okay," he finally said, letting out a long breath. "Well... yesterday, we were having drinks, and Jack mentioned that he was unhappy. He said he was thinking about leaving."

My breath caught in my throat. "Leaving?" My voice is barely a whisper, the word too big to fully grasp. "He said he was thinking about leaving me?"

Ethan nods, his expression filled with regret.

"That’s all he said. I thought he was joking or just drunk. I didn’t think he was serious."

I stare at him, my mind reeling. Unhappy? Jack was unhappy. How had I missed this? I thought we were fine. No, more than fine—we were happy, weren’t we? We had our routine, our life together, our plans for the future. There hadn’t been any signs... at least none that I saw.

I felt the weight of Ethan’s words sink in, slowly, like a dagger twisting into my chest. Jack had been unhappy. I hadn’t known. And now... he was gone. The full reality of the situation crashed over me, and my heart shattered into a million pieces.

I slumped deeper into the chair, staring at the floor as the pain finally hit me. This wasn’t some cruel joke. Jack wasn’t coming back. He had really left.