JENNIE's POV
Instead of going to one of my friends' houses, I checked into a hotel and paid for the week with cash. I didn't want Lisa tracing my whereabouts via my credit card. Luckily, I had my own money from Floria Designs and the foresight to stash an emergency bundle at home when the business took off. It was enough to cover the hotel and hold me over while I figured out what to do.
Was leaving without a word the coward's way out? Probably. But I need time alone to think, which was why I didn't update my friends immediately either.
I'd turned my phone off after leaving the penthouse, and I left it off while I unpacked, showered, and tried not to think about the past few hours or the sharp ache in my chest.
"Lili!" I laughed when Lisa stepped into the shower and wrapped her arms around my waist from behind. "You're supposed to be ordering room service."
"I did order room service." Her mouth trailed over my shoulder and up my neck. Despite the steam clouding the bathroom, goose bumps of pleasure pebbled my skin. "But I decided I want dessert first."
"What if I don't agree?" I teased. "Maybe I want to follow the normal order of things. Not all of us can be a rule breaker."
"In that case.." Lisa's mouth reached the corner of my lips, one hand palmed my breast while the other dipped leisurely between my legs. Pleasure spiraled in my stomach, and I couldn't hold back a soft sigh. "I'll just have to find a way to convince you, won't I?"
I closed my eyes, letting the hot water wash away my tears. We were miles and years away from our first weekend getaway as a couple, but I could almost feel the phantom strength of her embrace. We'd had sex twice in the shower; by the time we came out, our room service meal had been cold, but we hadn't even cared. We'd devoured the food like it'd been freshly made.
I stayed in the shower longer than I should've, but the water, heat, and emotions of the night conspired to pull me under. The moment my head hit the pillow, I was out.
When I woke up the next morning and finally turned on my phone, I had dozens of missed texts, calls, and voicemails from my friends and Lisa. She must've reached out to them after she came home and found me missing.
I sent a quick message to the group chat assuring my friends I was okay and that I would tell them everything later before taking a deep breath and opening Lisa's voicemails.
My heart instantly squeeze at the sound of her voice, which grew increasingly panicked with each message.
Lisa: Where are you?
Lisa: Jen, this isn't funny.
Lisa: I'm sorry I missed our flight. A work emergency came up and I had to deal with it. We can still make the rest of the trip.
Lisa: Dammit, Jennie. I understand if you're mad, but at least let me know you're okay. I don't— fuck.
A string of curses blended with the unmistakable patter of rain against concrete in the background. The message's time stamp read 3:29 a.m. What the hell was she doing out so late?
Looking for you.
I squashed the thought as quickly as it popped up, partly because I didn't believe the new Lalisa Manoban would do something like that and partly because it hurt too much to think she would. Her last message was two hours ago at 6:23 a.m.
Lisa: Call me back. Please.
The squeeze in my chest became unbearable. I wasn't ready to face him, but sleep had cleared last night's emotional fog, and the desperation in her voice eroded my earlier vow to avoid her until I had a plan. It was better to see her and rip the Band-Aid off, so to speak, than let the uncertainty fester.
