Page 114 of Commit

“Oh, before I forget, I dropped off that bag Trix put together for Starling.”

“Did you see her? Was she okay?”

“She was asleep, so I left it at the nurse’s station.”

“Alright, thanks. I have to go. I’ll text you when we get home.”

I hang up and walk to her room. I open the door with a smile but find the bed empty. Turning around, I go to the nurse’s station and wait for her to get off the phone.

“Yes, sir, can I help you?”

“My wife, Starling Peters. Did she go for more tests?”

She frowns and types something into the computer. “Ah, it says here she checked out last night against doctor’s orders.”

“What? Are you sure you have the right patient?”

“Yes, of course.” She lifts an envelope from the desk. “Is your name Hudson?”

“Yeah.”

“Looks like she left you a note,” she says softly.

I grab it from her and jog toward the exit, knocking someone over on the way out, but I don’t look back. I don’t stop until I make it to my car. I sit in the driver’s seat and rip the envelope open.

Unfolding the two sheets of paper, I see my name in Starling’s familiar handwriting, staring back at me.

Hudson.

You must think I’m an idiot. And to think you almost had me fooled.

Was this all just a game to you? Are you that much of a narcissist? You have to break all your toys because that’s what I was, right? A toy for you to play with.

How could you do this to me? College was the one thing I wanted for myself, and you took it from me. And don’t even get me started on Abbot. You knew all along where he was, and you just played dumb. I can’t even wrap my head around it. If I’d never heard all this from your own mouth, I would have never believed it.

You took everything we were building and set fire to it. I’m done with this, with us, and with you. I never want to see you again.

In case you missed it, this is me officially moving out. Expect divorce papers in the mail.

Starling

I punch the steering wheel until my knuckles split and bleed. I knew something was wrong when I left her. I fucking knew it.

Yanking out my phone, I call Landon.

He answers on the third ring. “Dad?”

“Is Starling there?”

“Good morning to you too,” he grumbles. “I haven’t seen Starling, but Abbot was talking to someone early this morning. And then he left, which is a miracle since that boy has done nothing but sleep on my sofa and mope. What the hell happened between you two? He wouldn’t tell me shit.”

“I don’t have time for this right now. Call me if they come back.”

I hang up and dial Kenzo.

“That was fast,” he laughs.

“Starling’s gone. She heard us talking outside her room yesterday. She knows I fucked up her college chances and that I knew where Abbot was.”