Chapter Thirty-One

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Five months had passed since you've been gone. A lot had happened. I took off my ring, and Finneas moved out. He was staying with me in our— my apartment. My music was the only thing keeping me together. Your twin never came around anymore. Memories play on repeat in my mind, killing me slowly every day. When I lost you, when we had to put an empty casket in the ground, the worst time of my life on repeat.

When I last spoke, I talked about time. I want to talk about guilt today. The guilt I carried every single day was killing me. Guilt is a feeling that doesn't go away, not until you do the right thing. Or try. What is the right thing here? I have tried for months to figure it out. Was the right thing to save you? I tried. Was the right thing to find you? I tried. Everyone did. You were everywhere. #findbillieswife. They didn't even use your name—only your face. The police were a joke, my fans couldn't have tried harder, and neither could yours.

You called me...

I winced in pain at the memory,

"B-Billie! Please! Help h—"

Those were the last words you ever said to me. I went out to grab our lunch. You were so hungry.

"Baby, I'm getting the food now. I'll be right back. Don't watch the show without me. I'm serious." I complained, putting on my sweater; looking back toward the couch. You were wearing a tight off-white shirt that said, Be the Change. You had on green bike shorts with my fuzzy socks. You looked stunning. We kissed goodbye. You told me you love me and to hurry back. Then you texted me to bring me chips too please love youuuuu. To which I replied with a middle finger and a heart emoji. You reacted with a heart and sent a photo of you winking.

That was your last photo. When you called me, I dropped everything, and people recognized me. I sprinted as hard as I could but got to our home too late. You had vanished. There were no signs of a break-in. Someone had tidied everything up. The police said you left me; they don't know us. You'd never leave. They didn't hear the fear in your voice.

After a month, they had decided you were gone, a cold case. I offered so much money I would need to get a full-time job to afford to live. Nobody agreed. They knew it was a lost cause. There were no witnesses, only someone who heard her scream. Our security cameras had been looped, no leads. It was done. I never wanted to give up on you. What could I do? Tell me what to do. Please, that's all I ask. Your phone was polished on the counter; they got into it. Nothing strange.

I wrap myself in our blanket and walk onto the balcony. Where are you? I reach up to touch my necklace that had my wedding ring dangling. We married quickly because of the excitement, but we promised each other we would have our dream one once I dropped my album. Well, I dropped my album, and now I'm a widow.

I need you, baby. Where did you go? How am I expected to keep on living my life when my wife vanished into thin fucking air? Many people told me to do things to help me move on from you. I don't want to move on. You aren't someone I can move on from. You are my— you were my wife. My other half. My spark. My air. I was a minute and twenty-three seconds too late. That's how long it took from your phone to find you vanished from our home. Our pets were gone. Everything that mattered. It has been five months—the most excruciating of my life.

I walk back inside to make myself a cup of coffee but drop my spoon. I crouch down to grab it quickly but feel a gleam in my eye. I picked the spoon up, and the sparkle was gone. What the hell? I put it back down and follow the light trail under the couch. I crouch back down; my jaw slacks slightly at sight.

Your necklace.

Evidence.

hi thank u for still reading if u do. <3. i know  things are super dark rn but necessary. ok be safe see u soon?

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⏰ Last updated: Apr 03, 2023 ⏰

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