Really empty.
Where the hell are all her toiletries? Her lotions and makeup? That soft band of fabric she uses to hold her hair back when she washes her face?
A panic starts to take root in my gut, and I look in the closet. Her half is mostly empty. A few things still sit on hangers, but her shoes are gone. Her dresser drawer is open, and it almost looks like she stuck in a hand, grabbed a few things, and hightailed it out of here.
Because I made her feel like shit.
I made her feel like I didn’t care whether she stayed or left.
How could I have said those things to her?
I make a slow circle, my eyes falling on her scattered clothes. A sock here. A t-shirt there. Would she have left so many things behind if she was gone for good?
Then my attention lands on her sewing machine on the small table in the corner that I set up for her projects.
That gives me a glimmer of hope.
Maybe she just went to Baylee’s.
Paige couldn’t have caught a flight overnight, could she? That would require her to drive to Austin.
There wasn’t time for all that.
I don’t think.
Fuck.
I rush to the living room, where my brothers look as grim as I do. It’s late for us, and the fact that we’re all loitering in the house at sunrise tells me they’re just as fucked up about our financial situation as I am.
The only difference is they didn’t just douse their marriage in kerosene and light a match.
From the couch in the living room, Gabriel hops up. “Hi, Dad.”
“Hi, buddy.” I spot Austin with him, playing Legos. “Did y’all eat breakfast?”
He bounces a ball on the ground, and it lands with a thud that makes my temple throb. “Uncle Beau fed us.”
“Good.” I turn back to my brothers and lower my voice. “Have y’all seen Paige this morning?”
Beau shakes his head. “Been waiting for you to wake up. Figured you needed a good night’s rest for once so we can make a plan.”
“A plan?”
I’ve never seen defeat in my brother’s eyes, but it’s there now. “Yeah. To liquidate.”
Liquidate. He means sell our ranch.
Because we can’t fucking afford it.
My throat is thick, and I struggle to suck in a breath. I wander to the front window where I see the empty spot where my wife’s car is always parked.
Nice job, asshole. You ran her off.
The boys start throwing the ball back and forth to each other, but Austin can’t catch that well, and it goes flying against the corner of the living room. I’ve been a big enough dick this week, so I don’t bark that they shouldn’t play ball in the house.
I rub the back of my neck. Everything hangs in the balance. My house, the ranch, our livestock. My relationship with Paige.
And as much as I’ve bled for this ranch, if Paige leaves, she’s taking my heart and soul with her.
