I'd been staring at my phone for over an hour, watching the screen remain stubbornly silent. No messages, no calls, nothing from Nathaniel. He hadn't come home all night, and the knot in my stomach was growing tighter with each passing hour.
"This isn't like him," I muttered, pacing across our bedroom.
Even during our worst disagreements, Nathaniel had always let me know his whereabouts. Now, after multiple unanswered messages, I was genuinely worried. Had something happened to him? Was he hurt? Or was he deliberately ignoring me?
I tried calling his number again, but it went straight to voicemail.
"Nathaniel, it's me again. I'm getting concerned. Just... call me when you get this, okay?"
I hung up and continued pacing. Maybe I was overreacting. He was a grown man who ran a massive corporation. Emergencies happened. But a simple text would have taken seconds.
