I wake up to the sound of my son crying. I roll toward Brooke, but she is not there. Thinking she is tending to Cahal, I roll back over. But the small wail continues. I push myself out of bed and trudge to the nursery.

“Brooke?” I call as I enter the room. I pick Cahal up, and he immediately stops crying.

“Does somebody need a diaper change?” I coo at him.

Setting him down on his changing table, I began the diaper-changing process. “Where’s your mom, little man? Is she downstairs getting you a bottle?”

Cahal starts crying at the mention of food, and I bring him downstairs to the food.

“Brooke?” I call out again. No answer.

I quickly prepare a bottle and feed Cahal while I walk from room to room. I check her art room, the living room, my office, all the guest rooms. I put a now sleeping Cahal back in his crib and frantically check the house again, calling out for her. I call her, only to find her phone in her bedside drawer. Under her phone is a note with my name scribbled on it.

Landon,

You are free. You have your son now and are officially free of me. Free of your contract with my father. Free to find a wife that you choose. I only ask that whoever you choose loves our son as much as I love our son. That you will raise him to be kind and respectful, strong, compassionate, and all the other things that I love most about you. Thank you for giving me the best two years of my life. I will cherish them for the rest of my days. You showed me that the world can be kind, and I wish you every happiness. Please do not look for me, just know that I am safe and at peace with my life. And please know that my heart does, and forever will, belong to you.

—Brooke

I drop down to the bed in confusion. Gone? Do not look for her? A wife of my choosing? Something fills my chest taking away all room for oxygen. I struggle to breath. This does not make any sense. We have not even talked about that damn contract in months. I glance at the clock; it’s four a.m. She cannot have left too long ago because Cahal eats roughly every two hours. I never heard him until about an hour ago, so she must have been tending to him. I try to think where she would go, but I realize I have no idea.