Ella woke to sunlight streaming through the curtains, the bed beside her cold and empty. She reached across the sheets instinctively, fingers searching for warmth that wasn't there. Kyle hadn't come home last night.
That in itself wasn't unusual—he was a busy man with business ventures she only half understood, meetings that ran late, obligations that pulled him away at odd hours. But Kyle always texted. Always gave her a heads up when he wouldn't be back. A quick message: "Running late, don't wait up" or "Stuck in a meeting, see you tomorrow." It was one of the small courtesies that made their unconventional arrangement feel less chaotic because it didn't leave her wondering. Even when they weren't on speaking terms after that complicated situation they both got into.
This time? Nothing.
