Jonathan's POV
I went to our bedroom and laid down and closed my eyes with a smile.
I woke up with a faint smile and went straight to the kitchen.
"Veronica," I said.
"You won't believe what a horrible nightmare I had."
As I reached the door of the kitchen.
"I dreamt you had left…"
I trailed off as the kitchen was…
Empty.
"No God…don't tell me this wasn't a dream…"
I ran back to the living room and picked up my phone.
Again I opened my contact list.
Imelda was saved as '1 Imelda-Fiancé'
I even added '1' so she'd be the first contact.
While Veronica was all the way down in "V" and saved as "Veronica-Assistant."
I quickly dialed Veronica's number.
Beep Beep Beep
Sorry the number you dialed doesn't exist. Please check your number and try again.
"Impossible," I said, rubbing the back of my neck.
"The number is ten years old, how can it be wrong?"
Then my eyes fell on the calendar
"What's this…"
"Veronica?"
I saw she had crossed a day, and up to today she had crossed seven days.
"Seven days?" I said, confused.
"According to this…the first day was when she served at the party where Sanders came."
I ran my hand through my hair in frustration.
"She must have thought I bailed Sanders out, but he's Imelda's cousin. There's no way she'd let him be."
I read the letter again.
Today I realized my lack of explaining to Veronica is also the reason we started to drift away from each other.
I got up and left the house. One thing was for sure, I wouldn't find her if I stayed at home.
I quickly went over to the security guards office.
"Excuse me," I said. "Miss Smith…You said she left and you got her a taxi. Can you show me the security footage?"
"Sorry," the security guard looked at me with crossed eyes. "Tenant privacy."
"What??" I was shocked at his reaction. "Please, I beg you, show me the footage. Please…"
"Okay," the guard said, frowning. "Don't need to be so dramatic.
He put the footage of the morning time and paused it.
"Hit the enter button," he said. "I'm going to check the mail boxes."
As he left, I pressed the enter button.
In the footage, I saw Veronica come out strolling two bags, as Janet was holding onto her doll.
Tears rolled down my cheeks as I recognized the doll. It was the only doll I bought for her.
The time was early morning.
Her demeanor was calm. And Janet was also normal, as if she knew what's going on.
Then my eyes shoot wide open.
Yellow and Red suitcase. The one's missing.
A small painful laugh left my lips.
"She didn't run away on an impulse."
"She was fully prepared."
Suddenly a spark lit up in my dark eyes.
"Of course the guard!"
"He said he got the taxi for her…"
As the guard came back, I grabbed his arm.
"Hey! What's wrong with you?"
"You said, you called the taxi for Veronica! Then you must have the number, right?"
"It was a taxi from the TaxiFare Service. I always call them when a tenant asks for one."
"Then you must know the taxi number, right?"
She's gone!" I said, clenching my fists. "I don't know and I can't get her on the phone."
"I don't remember but I think the number was one-five-D-G-…that's all I remember."
I ran my hands through my hair as the number was partial and the main parts were missing.
The first two numbers, and first two alphabets, only mean the taxi is from here, but the last alphabet and last two numbers tell which city the taxi can go to.
Still at the moment, anything was better than nothing.
I went back up to the apartment and dialed the telecom customer service.
"Hello, Jonathan Rollings. CEO Rollings Designs. I want to speak to your manager."
"Yes…Mr. Rollings. One moment please."
"Hello, Mr. Rollings," a male voice said. "How can I help you sir?"
I gave him Veronica's number.
"Track the number and tell me where she is right now."
"Yes, Mr. Rollings." he said. "Please give me five minutes."
Five minutes turned to ten, then finally he spoke.
But when he did, the phone fell from my hands.
"Mr. Rollings?"
"Mr. Rollings?"'
I picked my phone up.
"What…what did you say?"
Though I heard clearly, I still wasn't sure.
"Mr. Rollings," he said. "Miss Smith personally came to the office and deactivated the number three days back. And as for the trace…her last call was from her apartment."
"Thanks."
I disconnected the call.
She didn't deactivate her number.
She raised a wall.
She cut off the only way to communicate with her…
Intentionally.
I picked up my keys and ran out.
I quickly drove over to her new office.
"Excuse me," I said to the receptionist. "I want to meet Miss Smith. Could you call her over?"
She barely got the job she loved, there's no way she wouldn't be here.
"And you are?"
Hope rose in my heart.
"Jonathan," I said. "Please tell her Jonathan is h—"
She cut my words.
"You must be Mr. Jonathan Rollings."
As she took my name, the staff around stopped their work and looked at me as if they were surprised to see me here.
"Yes…I am." I was a little shocked by their reaction.
"Miss Smith has resigned."
"What??"
"Yes," she continued. "She informed a week prior so as per the rules, and took her dues and left. She also cleared all pending projects so we had no reason to take her next place address."
That meant she left her calmly.
I was going out when I overheard someone say:
"She actually looked relieved when she left."
Relieved to leave me.
Then I got into my car and drove off to Janet's school.
I froze for a moment as I realized today was the first time since she began school, I came as her father.
I went straight to the principal's office.
"Actually Mr. Rollings," he said. "We don't disclose any details about other children to other parents. But you are one of our donors. So, fine."
He got up and went over to a drawer and came back with a folder.
"Let me see….Janet…Janet…ah yes! Janet Smith."
He turned the folder towards me.
"There it is. Janet's mother came and requested us for a transfer letter. So, we…"
"Transfer letter!" I said. "To which school??"
"Sorry Mr. Rollings," he said. "She asked for a neutral letter. She didn't give any name in particular."
I flipped paper by paper.
It was complete. The process was complete and there was no loop hole.
The paperwork was processed and stamped.
And another blow to my deeds:
"Her sign…."
"Yes," he said. "Miss Smith would always sign as the mother and in the guardian place she'd always write 'only guardian'. It makes sense as Janet's father isn't alive and Miss Smith had no relatives."
No father. No relatives.
This was the hard reality that slapped them for seven years. Today I was slapped by it once, and it hurt like a thousand daggers were struck into my heart.
I took my leave and went back to the apartment.
As I sat down, I felt like I was a body that was breathing but had no soul.
I don't know how long I lay dead on the sofa, but when I got up, the stars were twinkling in the sky.
Then my eyes fell upon a diary.
I picked it up.
"Telephone numbers…her friends…this is where she worked as a waiter once."
I quickly began to dial her friends' numbers.
One by one.
All gave me the same answer.
And the same accusation.
Then I got up and went out and knocked on the door of the neighbors.
Maybe she told something to one of them.
They were no different than her friends on the phone.
I came back and picked the diary up again.
"Her old work numbers?" I said.
"Maybe she joined one of them again?"
I tried every single one, and the same message.
"Husband? Isn't her husband dead?"
"You're her husband? Odd, she never mentioned you."
My breath hitched as realization dawned on me.
I hurt her in more ways than I realized.
I sat upright and placed the diary on the table.
I began to recall everything that happened in a sequence.
Her resignation.
Withdrawing Janet from her school.
Packing bags without me knowing.
Deactivating her number without me knowing.
She planned everything in detail and made sure there was no mistake.
I got up and went to the bathroom.
I washed my face three times before wiping my face with a towel
I stood with my hands on the shelf as I looked at my damp self in the mirror.
My body was steady, and my breath was calm.
My hands were relaxed.
I went to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of water.
I drank the full glass before going back to the living room.
I picked the photo frame, the only photo of us.
"Nicky," I said to her photo. "I hurt you and I deserve what you did."
"You spent seven years waiting for me."
"Now, no matter what. No matter where you are. I will win your forgiveness and I will bring you back as the rightful Mrs. Rollings. I will bring Janet back as my only daughter."
I began to look around.
"Why is it…whenever I was about to tell Nicky about Adrian...she'd call."
And Adrian…why does everyone say, 'he doesn't behave like me?"
Just then I recalled the time Adrian was born.
"Even back then the timing didn't match up."
"But the report was stamped."
But I can't deny Imelda has always targeted Nicky more than she really had to.
She knew I was not going to back out, still she targeted Nicky.
"Was Imelda's targeting a reason for Nicky leaving me like this?"
Then with a piercing gaze I looked up at my phone.
My phone was buzzing.
The screen read:
Imelda
Veronica didn't just leave.
She erased her tracks that could lead me to her.
It wasn't an accident.
It wasn't a mistake.
It was deliberate.
My eyes darkened as a single name surfaced in my mind—
My grip tightened around my phone.
Imelda…"