Chapter 20 Unavailable
Claire
The moment I stepped into the living room, Luppy rushed toward me with that bright smile she always wore—until she looked closely. Her smile dropped into a small frown.
“Madam, your face looks puffy… Did you go for a crying show?” she asked. My eyes widened instantly and I touched my cheeks. “Oh—no, no. I just didn’t get much sleep last night,” I said quickly, lying so she wouldn’t worry.
But I instantly regretted that excuse because her cheeks turned red, and the look on her face told me exactly where her thoughts had gone. “Oh, I see, madam,” she said knowingly. I couldn’t help the chuckle that slipped out.
“Is there any food? I’m starving,” I asked, desperately trying to change the topic. “Oh, there’s food, all right. You’ll need your strength,” she teased. “No, that’s not—” I tried to defend myself, but she was already turning away, and I just ended up laughing.
It was Sunday, so Riette should be back from Mass anytime soon. Oh God—Sunday. I should have gone too. What was I even thinking?
“Well, I prepared plenty of dishes, madam, so come to the table,” Luppy called. I hurried to help her set the table. “No, no, sit down. I’ll get your food,” she insisted, already rushing into the kitchen.
I sat and touched my forehead, only to realize the sleeve of my blouse had slipped back. My wrist was exposed, and I immediately dropped my hand.
Damn you, Liam. Now I have to wear clothes that cover everything except my face.
Three hours later, I had changed into something more comfortable—and something that hid all my skin. Not long after, Riette came home. I put down the book I was holding and smiled at him.
He walked in with a slight frown. “I’m sorry,” I said immediately, but he only sighed. “When you called, I was asleep… Mom.” He says as he settles on the couch across from me “I wasn't mad at you" he continues as he smiles slowly. I nodded. “Okay, but I'm still sorry though. So, how was Mass?” His face lit up a little. “It was good,” he said. I narrowed my eyes at him. “She was there, wasn’t she?” He burst out laughing. “Mom, stop!” he groaned, and I couldn’t hold my laughter either.
Time passed as we chatted, and then my phone rang. I picked it up, and a smile spread across my face. “Hello, Mom!” a cheerful voice said. “Isabella! You called.” Riette immediately got up and moved close to me.
“Yes, Mom! How have you been? How is that mummy’s boy? And how is Luppy? And Dad?—” She was firing questions too fast, and I laughed. “My dear, slow down. Ask one at a time,” I said. “I just miss you all,” she replied sweetly.
“We’re all fine, and mummy’s boy is right here,” I said. Riette frowned dramatically. “Is that what she called me?” he said, taking the phone from me to talk to his sister.
Luppy came running in. “Is that one of the twins?” she gasped, and in seconds she and Riette were bickering over the phone like children. As expected.
I couldn’t stop smiling. Then I suddenly remembered. “Ask her when they’ll be on holiday,” I told Riette. He asked, then turned to me. “Mom, she said you asked at the perfect time. It’s next week.”
I clapped my hands together. Next week—I would see my babies.
“What about Max?” I added. “She said Max is fine,” Riette answered.
My heart felt full. I had missed my children so much… my joy givers. And I couldn’t wait to hold them again.
Ian
All morning after I got to work, I kept trying to call Pattie, but she didn’t pick up even once. After a while, worry settled in my chest, heavy and sharp. I called again… and again… still nothing. Finally, I rang my driver, and he answered immediately. “Go to Pattie’s place and check on her. I want to know how she’s doing,” I instructed.
If not for the meeting I had in a few minutes, I would have driven there myself.
My mind drifted back to this morning. When we woke up, she had been acting strangely—quiet, distant. Even when we made love, something felt off. It was like she wasn’t there with me. No moans, no soft sounds, none of that fire she always had. Nothing.
Maybe I needed to put in more effort… before I lost my precious Pattie. The woman who somehow managed to fill my dull, empty life with warmth.
I tried calling again. This time, the line didn’t even ring—just a tone saying the number was unavailable. How? Why?
Before I could spiral, my secretary called to remind me it was time. I hung up, stood, straightened myself, but my stomach twisted with dread. What if something bad had happened to her? What would I do?
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During the board meeting, I couldn’t focus on a single word. My thoughts kept drifting back to her. Every minute felt like an hour. Then my phone vibrated. It was my driver.
“Excuse me,” I said to the board of directors. “I need to take this call.” I stepped out of the boardroom and walked to a quiet corner, my breath uneven.
“Yes? How is she? Is she okay?” The questions tumbled out of my mouth before I could stop them. There was a short silence before he responded.
“Well, sir… I knocked, but no one answered.”
My heart began hammering wildly. Kidnappers? An accident? My mind rushed to every terrible possibility. I felt sick.
“But—” he started.
“But what?” I snapped, desperate.
“The security guards said they saw her moving her luggage into her car before she left this morning.”
I went still. Completely still. It felt like ice water poured down my spine.
“What did you say?” I asked, even though I had heard him clearly.
It was exactly what he said. She left. She left this morning—with her luggage.
I could barely breathe. My chest felt tight, and I knew I couldn’t sit in that meeting for another second. I needed to leave, now. I needed to go there myself.
I marched back into the boardroom, ready to say something, anything, but the moment I faced them, the words disappeared. These weren’t men you could simply lie to and walk away. They were influential, sharp, and I had already taken too much of their time. So I swallowed the excuses burning on my tongue and forced myself to continue the meeting, even though my mind was nowhere near the room.
The moment it ended, I didn’t wait for greetings or handshakes—I rushed out, letting my legs carry me straight out of the building. Phillip already had the car waiting; he opened the back door, and I slipped inside, breathing hard.
“Are you sure that’s what they said?” I asked him immediately.
He nodded firmly. “Yes, sir. They even showed me the camera footage.”
My heart hammered so hard I could feel it in my throat. Footage. So she really did pack her things… She really left.
Or… did she have a shoot today? That could be it. Maybe. But she didn’t mention anything about having a shoot. Not one word. My thoughts were everywhere as I yanked off my tie, my fingers shaking.
“Speed up, Phillip,” I said, my voice almost cracking. “Please.”
When we arrived, I rushed out of the car and straight into the house, unlocking the door with my spare key.
The moment I stepped inside, everything looked exactly the same—clean, untouched—just like it had been this morning. I headed for the bedroom, my heartbeat loud in my ears. The room was spotless too, almost too neat. But when I opened the closet, only my belongings were there.
Her side… empty.
No. No, that couldn’t be right. Pattie wasn’t that kind of girl. She wouldn’t just leave. She wouldn’t.
Still refusing to believe it, I kept searching the closet, pushing hangers aside like her clothes would suddenly appear. That was when I saw it—a white envelope tucked at the corner.
My hands were already shaking as I picked it up. I tore it open and unfolded the paper. The bold handwriting was unmistakably hers.
“While we had all the fun, it must surely come to an end.
You had the sex you wanted, while I had the money you could give.
Fair trade.
Do not come looking for me.
—Pattie Paul”
My breath caught. Sweat gathered instantly on my forehead. I felt my legs weaken, and I stumbled onto the bed like someone had hit me in the chest.
I read it again. Then again. The words stayed the same, stabbing deeper each time.
“No… you can’t do this to me,” I whispered, panting hard, the letter crumpling under my grip. My jaw clenched so tightly it hurt, my face twisting with something I couldn’t even name.
“No!!!”
It tore out of me before I could stop it. This had to be a joke. A sick prank. She wouldn’t write something like this. She wouldn’t leave me like this.
I grabbed my phone and tried calling again. Still nothing. It didn’t even ring—just the same message saying the number wasn’t available.
Impossible. This was impossible.
I got up, heart pounding painfully. I had to find her. I needed to hear her explanation from her own mouth. She couldn’t mean this. She couldn’t be serious.
She is mine.
I poured everything into her—my heart, my time, everything.
No. This had to be a prank.
It had to be.