“I’ll be gentle, don’t worry.” His promise before we made love had my attention falling from his eyes to his kill-me-now length, then back to his face again. His weight, his warmth, his presence was all-consuming. “I got you,” he murmured before I guided him to my center, and he pushed inside me.

And he truly did. He had me in every way that mattered, in the ways I hadn’t even known existed. He showed me how it was meant to be between two lovers. How it felt to be cherished and worshipped. It was intoxicating and addictive.

Saying goodbye now? Impossible. Name or not, he was already etched into me.

But when he made love to me a second time that night, it was . . . well, otherworldly.

We connected on a level beyond flesh and pleasure. Something primal. Ancient.

Like I was his missing rib. Eve to his Adam. Like we belonged together.

No words passed between us after that. Just a quiet, unshakeable understanding. At some point, I fell asleep in his arms, feeling safer than I ever had in my life.

And then, my world stopped. Because I woke up. And he was gone.

I jolted upright, heart hammering, wild hope surging as I heard noise coming from the living room. Maybe it was him? Maybe he was still here, and I wasn’t too late?

I scrambled out of bed so fast I nearly face-planted on the floor, tangled in the sheets.

Gripping the sheet around me like a toga, I ran into the living room, breathless, praying.

But he wasn’t there. The noise had come from my drunk friends.

The terrace door was open, and Lizzy and Josie stood outside by the pool, champagne in hand, laughing without a care in the world.

“Where is he?” I sputtered, fighting back tears.

“Who?” Josie asked around a hiccup, drinking champagne from the bottle.

Lizzy snatched a napkin stuck to the bottom of the bottle and flung it toward the pool.

As I stepped outside, my gaze landed on the napkin midair.

There was writing on it.

I may have lost my mind and my sheet, but I maneuvered between them, lunging forward and jumping into the shallow end.

“Jules! What is wrong with you?” Lizzy yelled as I snatched the napkin from the water, holding it up, dripping wet, as I walked back over.

Josie squatted next to me. “Girl, what is up with you?”

The sun had set, but the patio lights were on, casting enough of a glow for me to see what remained of the ink on the napkin. A smeared, inky mess.

“No, no, no.” I squeezed my eyes shut and hung my head. “He left me a note, but it’s gone.”

You felt something, too. You didn’t just walk away without a word. You left me your number, and now it’s gone.