After that amazing Saturday morning brunch, Gracie and I went home. The house was a mess, plates were shattered, the Tv was thrown, picture frames were busted, and Andrew was nowhere to be found. Being in the FBI, I decided it was best to call in some backup in case something had happened to Andrew or if whoever did this was still here. I had given Morgan and Rossi a call. Rossi watched Grace as Morgan and I cleared the house looking for any clues as to what might have happened. Morgan came walking down the stairs with a note in his hand.
"Baby girl, I found this note, but I would rather you not read this. It does more harm than good." He folds the letter up, clearly angry.
I clench my fists, "Give me the gist."
He raises his brows and nods, "It says he's going away for a while. He'll consider rehab, but until you hear from him don't bother looking for him. Y/n, you really need to consider divorcing this guy."
I start to cry, "Thanks, Derek."
We walked outside, Rossi looked at me with sympathy and love. They both just gave me a hug. Rossi was kind enough to hire a cleaning crew for me and we spent the afternoon at his house where Grace could swim. My husband left, he threw a tantrum and left. I'm glad we weren't home, who knows what might have happened.
YOU ARE READING
Can't Be That Wrong
Romance"I can't find it in my heart to ask forgiveness. Anything that feels this right can't be that wrong." lust, love, marriage, and divorce. You and the team are a family unit, that's obvious. However, for a a group of skilled profilers, no one saw thi...
