THE CEO'S UNLOVED WIFE ✅

Chapter X: Fatigue

Dean, feeling a heavy weight of hopelessness and shock, arrived at the house he once shared with Kaitlyn. The air seemed thick with the echoes of revelations, leaving him voiceless and emotionally drained. He slumped down on the familiar couch, his head leaning back in a futile attempt to make sense of the unraveling events.

The room felt different as if the walls themselves held the weight of untold stories. Dean's gaze wandered to the large wedding photo that adorned the living room, capturing a moment frozen in time. In the picture, he stood awkwardly, while Kaitlyn radiated contentment and beauty.

Dean began talking to himself, the words escaping in a mix of frustration and self-reflection. "What am I supposed to do now?" he muttered, scolding himself for his actions. The image of Kaitlyn's smiling face in the photograph served as a reminder of the happiness he never once gave her.

"Why did I treat her that way?" Dean's voice grew louder, filled with regret. He questioned the void left by Kaitlyn's disappearance, grappling with the uncertainty of what to do next. The emotions surged within him, a tumultuous mix of guilt, anger, and an overwhelming sense of loss.

He continued the one-sided conversation, berating himself for his shortcomings and the impact they had on Kaitlyn. "Why did you have to disappear when there was no need?" Dean's voice echoed in the solitude of that lonely space.

"The silence in this house... it's suffocating. Maybe it's what I deserve." Dean's tone shifted to one of resignation as he acknowledged the consequences of his actions. He reflected on the moments he took for granted and the opportunities he let slip away, leaving him with a profound sense of emptiness.

Dean stood, weary and full of regret, making his way upstairs to the room meant for both of them. Memories of shared space lingered in the air, now overshadowed by the somber reality of solitude.

Entering the room, he recalled the nights of missed connections and the unspoken distance between them. The bed, once a symbol of hopeful togetherness, now stood witness to the unraveling of their strained relationship.

Thinking back to the night they both shared before everything changed, three nights before the divorce papers, he pitifully laughed at his obliviousness to Kaitlyn's true feelings. He acknowledged his shortcomings, realizing he had failed to provide the attention and affection she deserved.

Lying on the bed that should have been a shared refuge, he closed his eyes, feeling the weight of loneliness. Imagining Kaitlyn alone in the room while he sought solace elsewhere, he grappled with the consequences of his neglect

The faint remnants of Kaitlyn's gentle and calming scent lingered in the air, adding a bittersweet layer to the solitude that surrounded him.

In a sudden surge of frustration and confusion, Dean couldn't contain his emotions any longer. He yelled into the empty room, "Where the hell are you, Kaitlyn!? How could you do this to me!?" His voice reverberated, the walls absorbing the intensity of his anguish.

"You said you love me?! Then why did you have to freaking disappear as if you have no one else left behind?!" His words reverberated with a mix of hurt and anger, the room absorbing the intensity of his outburst.

Dean, added with a vehement tone, "Forget about your father's death! You said you'd always be there for me?! You'd cheer me up! You'd leave everything behind no matter the significance just to be with me?! You lying woman! Have you forgotten the promises you've made?!" His words carried the weight of betrayed expectations, echoing through the room as he confronted the perceived breach of promises in Kaitlyn's sudden absence.

In the grip of anger, Dean muttered to himself, "I will find you, Kaitlyn, you'll see. You don't mess with me. I've known you for years. You can't hide from me."He rose from the bed, determination in his eyes, and walked out of the room. Grabbing his phone, he started searching for a contact. A friend, an investigator. After finding the number, he dialed and waited. Carlo, the investigator with a bright and sunny personality, answered with glee. Despite Carlo's attempt at a friendly conversation, Dean was still not quite in the mood.

Dean: Carlo, it's Dean. I need your help, man.

Carlo: Hey, Dean! Long time no talk! What's up, buddy?

Dean: Cut the pleasantries, Carlo. I'm in a mess. Kaitlyn disappeared, and I need to find her.

Carlo: Whoa, slow down, Dean. What happened? Disappeared how?

Dean: She's just gone. No trace. No clues of her whereabouts. I need to know where she is.

Carlo: Alright, alright. I'm on it. When did you last see her?

Dean: About a day after she left. She vanished, and I didn't think much of it until now.

Carlo: A day?! Why didn't you reach out sooner?

Dean: I thought she needed space. I was wrong. Now, can you help me or not?

Carlo: Of course, man. I'll need some details. Where did she go that day?

Dean: She said something about her father's place. I didn't pay much attention.

Carlo: Alright, I'll start there. Any leads, anything she might have said recently?

Dean: She was upset about her father's death. That's it.

Carlo: I'll check her usual spots, and talk to people. You sit tight, and I'll update you.

Dean: Thanks, Carlo. This means a lot.

Carlo: No problem, Dean. We'll find her. Anything else you want to share?

Dean: No, that's it. Just find her.

Carlo: Got it. I'll be in touch soon. Take care, buddy.

Dean: Yeah, you too.

As the call ended, Dean paced the room, his mind clouded with worry. Carlo, on the other end, delved into the task of uncovering the mystery surrounding Kaitlyn's disappearance.

As Dean contemplated places where Kaitlyn might be staying, a sudden realization struck him like a bolt of disappointment. For all the years they had been together, first as friends and later as a couple, he didn't truly know everything about her. More disappointment weighing heavily on him, Dean let out a groan and slumped down onto the floor.