As the sun peeked through the windows in our bedroom, fear pulsed through me, along with a kind of desperation to convince her to come home. If she wouldn’t answer texts or phone calls and wouldn’t let me in her apartment, there was no way to convince her of anything or even just hold her. I didn’t need her to be recovered from the devastating blow Angelica Marks had dealt her. I needed to be able to help her recover if she needed it. But what if Chloe never let me back in?

What if I’d lost one of my best friends as well as my wife?

Had I waited too long to tell her I loved her? Not long enough? It seemed she didn’t believe me regardless, but was that just because of what had happened on Friday? If I had told her sometime before she’d lost her job, would it have had time to settle in and take root in her mind? Or would it have scared her off?

I sat up on the edge of the bed, leaning over my knees, trying not to throw up. I ran my hands through my hair like a desperate man as I took in some deep breaths, willing the nausea away.

When I felt like I could put my head up without vomiting, I grabbed my phone from the nightstand, my hope dim but present that there would be something from Chloe. There wasn’t.

With my eyes burning and my chest aching and my body feeling like I was a few decades older than thirty-four, I slowly stood and headed to the shower.

Today I was continuing to train Riley O’Brien to take over managing Henry’s front of house so I could transition my full-time focus to the brewery. Prior to this weekend, I’d been exhilarated by the task because it meant I was one step closer to my dream. With Chloe gone and the possibility of not having a future with her weighing so heavily on me, I had a hard time giving half a fuck about the brewery. The thing that had lit me up with motivation and passion and hope for the past few years… it paled in comparison to Chloe. If I could walk away from Rusty Anchor Brewing to ensure Chloe came back and became my for-real wife, I’d do it in a heartbeat.

I’d never felt so impotent in my life.

Chloe

By Sunday, I was sick of my miserable self. I wasn’t ready to move mountains or even get dressed in something other than leggings and a T-shirt, but I’d never been good at wallowing or sitting around, doing nothing.