Post by WILLIAM CARNEGIE on Apr 20, 2024 17:01:46 GMT
Returning to an empty apartment each night had been one of the most painful reminders of the brutal change in his life. For months afterwards he’d wait in a place they’d never shared for the sound of the door closing. The vacuum that had taken Zoey’s place at his side drawing at his emotions like a black hole, leaving his life feeling empty. It had been deserved, Will had taken himself that much, but it had taken so long to grow used to it. Just as he had, she had been back there again. God, it hadn’t mattered that she’d hated him at first, he would’ve taken that for a thousand years to selfishly keep Zoey in his life, just that he could look across a room and find her again.
Slowly her presence had started to creep back into the penthouse, making it feel theirs in a way. She would leave minutes earlier than him at the moment to make sure that they didn’t arrive at the station at the same time. By now there had to be suspicions about what was happening between them, despite the professionalism that settled over them like a blanket at the station. Jill, as Zoey’s confidant, had to suspect the truth at least, if he wasn’t telegraphing it to everybody with the way his attention would drift to her. Here he didn’t need to hide it and it had become a relief that as soon as the apartment door shut – his or hers – they could slip back towards their new way of being together.
Dinner already on the stove when Zoey had arrived. The two of them lingering in the kitchen over their first glasses of wine as he stirred and basted, the first forkful of rice offered up to her for a taste test before he’d served it up. Brief discussions of their day slipping away as he’d brought up her father. It would put a brief pall over the table, but he wanted this to be her safe space to share her worries over him. For as long as she would let him he’d play her ear to listen, to shoulder to lean on. Literally now that they had retreated from the kitchen.
Will lifted his wine glass, draining the last mouthful from it as his mind slithered back to work. The abandoned vehicle from yesterday had been playing on his mind half the night, nibbling at the edges of his attention as they’d eaten, as they’d settled down together. There’d been no ID left in the vehicle, no purse, no registration in the glove box. A search of the woods that had stretched over two days had turned up nothing and by the time they’d towed the car to the station for an inspection he hadn’t been surprised that the search of its license plate and VIN on the system had brought back nothing. It was though the car had grown opaque while its occupant had vanished entirely.
He frowned as he set the glass back, his hand going to Zoey’s hip, his thumb circling slowly, meditatively as he picked through it in his head. As he realised he’d been silent for too long, he managed to gather himself together enough for a faint smile. ”Sorry,” Will murmured hoarsely. Slipping into his own world while she was right there was unfair. He’d done that enough at the end of their marriage, a gulf that had felt like the Grand canyon opening up between them. Even now the bridge they were attempting to build across it felt thin as a high wire. One wrong move and they would tumble off.
”We caught a strange one yesterday. An abandoned car just on the outskirts of town. There was blood on the passenger seat, both front doors were open. The driver’s window was shattered, but everything else seemed scrubbed clean. I can’t seem to stop picking over it.” But he should. This job, his other, neither was worth the fragile relationship that had started to develop between them. Zoey, she was meant to be the centre of it all. The core around which his life had been built. This time he wouldn’t allow it to implode. Letting out a long breath, Will let his smile strengthen. ”Do you want another glass? There’s still some left.” Enough alcohol to enhance that light buzz in his system, to drown the parts of his mind that weren’t focused on the woman in his arms.
Tagged: ZOEY WASHINGTON * Word Count: 748