Chapter 40 Pathetic
Troy’s POV
“For the love of God, she doesn’t live here anymore!”
The man’s voice boomed from the doorway, his face red with frustration. He was stocky, mid-forties, wearing a stained t-shirt and gripping the door like he was ready to slam it in my face.
“I just need to know where she went,” I said, trying to sound reasonable. Responsible. Like a concerned boyfriend and not a guy who’d been dumped in the most humiliating way possible.
“I don’t know where she went!” He stepped forward, forcing me back. “I bought this house three months ago from the bank. Foreclosure. The family was already gone.”
“But there has to be records…”
“Kid, I’m a plumber who bought a foreclosed property. I don’t have forwarding addresses. I don’t even know their last names!” He was practically yelling now. “Now get the hell off my porch before I call the cops!”
“Wait, please…”
The door slammed in my face.
I stood there for a moment, staring at the peeling paint on the door, my hands clenched into fists.
This was bullshit. Complete bullshit.
Three months she’d been gone. Three months of radio silence. And nobody…nobody…would tell me where the fuck she went.
I stomped back to my motorcycle, yanked my helmet on, and kicked the engine to life with more force than necessary.
This was the fourth dead end this week.
Her coffee shop job? “She quit two months ago. No, we can’t give out personal information.”
Her friend Aria? Threatened to pepper spray me through her apartment door and called me a “creepy stalker asshole.” Which was completely unfair because I was just trying to talk to Melissa.
The school registrar? Actually laughed in my face when I asked if they could forward a letter. Something about “privacy laws” and “restraining orders if you keep showing up here.”
Like I was some kind of criminal. I just wanted to apologize. Was that so wrong?
I pulled out my phone at the next red light and scrolled to her contact for probably the hundredth time today.
Melissa The little heart emoji mocked me. I’d added it after our first month together, back when things were good.
I knew she’d blocked me. I knew it wouldn’t go through. But I pressed call anyway.
“The number you are trying to reach is no longer in service…”
“Fuck!” I ended the call and nearly threw my phone before remembering I couldn’t afford a new one.
Tasha had kicked me out last week. Said I was “obsessed” and “unhealthy” and she was “done being your rebound.” Whatever. She was boring anyway. Not like Melissa.
Now I was crashing on my buddy Jake’s couch, which smelled like weed and old pizza, and listening to him lecture me about “moving on” and “letting her go.”
Nobody understood. Nobody got it.
Melissa and I had something special. We’d been together for a long time . That meant something. That meant I deserved another chance to explain.
Yeah, I’d made a mistake. One mistake. Okay, maybe like three mistakes if you counted all the times with Tasha. But that was different. That was just physical. Melissa was real.
I rode aimlessly through the city, with no real destination in mind, just trying to think of where else I could look.
Maybe I could check…
A sleek black car caught my eye at the stoplight ahead. Something expensive. German. The kind that cost more than my bike and Jake’s entire apartment combined.
And in the passenger seat…
My heart stopped.
Brown hair. That profile I’d memorized. The way she held her head.
Melissa.
“No fucking way.”
The light turned green and the car pulled forward. I revved my engine and followed, weaving between cars like I was in some kind of action movie.
My chest felt tight. My hands shook on the handlebars.
She was supposed to be struggling. Supposed to be regretting dumping me. Supposed to be missing me.
Instead she was riding around in cars that cost six figures.
The car turned smoothly, cutting through traffic with ease. I followed, staying a few cars back.
Who the fuck was driving? I caught a glimpse…it was a very handsome young guy, with dark hair, suit that probably cost more than my entire wardrobe.
My jaw clenched.
This was why she left. This was why she’d ghosted me and disappeared.
She’d found herself a sugar daddy with money.
The car pulled into an underground parking garage attached to one of those luxury high-rises. I pulled over across the street, engine idling, staring at the building.
Of course. Of course this was where she ended up.
While I was sleeping on Jake’s couch that smelled like failure, she was living in some penthouse, probably drinking champagne and laughing about how she’d dumped her loser ex-boyfriend.
My hands tightened on the handlebars until my knuckles went white.
I loved her. Sure, I’d messed up a few times, but I’d apologized. I tried to explain. I’d even stopped doing coke for like two whole weeks to prove I was serious.
And she’d thrown it all away for some rich old dude.
A security guard walked past the building’s entrance, eyeing my bike suspiciously.
I should go in there. March right up to whatever penthouse she was living in. Make her explain why I wasn’t good enough but this asshole with money was.
But I’d probably get arrested. Rich people always had security for their buildings.
I needed a plan. A better plan.
I pulled out my phone and opened my notes app, typing quickly:
Found Melissa - luxury building Fifth & Park.
My phone buzzed with a text from Jake.
Jake: Dude where’s my car? You said you’d be back hours ago.
Shit. I’d borrowed Jake’s car earlier to check her old house. Then I switched to my bike because it was easier to follow people without being obvious.
Me: Got held up. Be back soon.
Jake: You’re not stalking your ex again are you?
Me: I’m not stalking. I’m just trying to talk to her.
Jake: Bro that’s literally stalking. Let it go.
I didn’t respond.
My phone buzzed again.
Tasha: Stop texting me. We’re done. Move on.
I hadn’t texted her in like three days. She was being dramatic.
Me: I’m not texting you. You texted ME.
Tasha: You called me six times last night drunk asking where Melissa is. I DON’T KNOW. STOP ASKING.
Had I? That sounded… possible. I’d been pretty wasted last night.
Me: Whatever. You were boring anyway.
Tasha: And you’re pathetic.
I stared at that word. Pathetic.
Fuck her. Fuck all of them.
I wasn’t pathetic. I was persistent. There was a difference.
I’d get her back. I’d prove I was better than some rich asshole with a nice car. I’d show her what she was missing.
And if I couldn’t get her back?
Then I’d make sure she regretted leaving me.
Nobody humiliated Troy Carter and got away with it.
Nobody.
I revved my engine and pulled back into traffic, my mind already spinning with plans.
I’d figure out her routine.And when the time was right, I’d make my move.
Melissa thought she’d escaped.
She had no idea what was coming.
I smiled to myself as I rode through the city.
This wasn’t over.
Not even close.