---- Chapter 9 Derek Gomez POV: | woke with a gasp, my heart hammering against my ribs like a trapped bird. The remnants of a nightmare clung to me, cold and suffocating. In the dream, Elaina had been walking away from me, down a long, endless corridor. She was holding the hand of a small child, a boy with my eyes and her quiet smile. "Wait!" | had shouted, my voice echoing in the unnerving silence. "Elaina, wait for me!" | ran, but my legs felt like they were sinking in quicksand. The harder | tried, the further away she got. She never looked back. Not once. The sight of her back, so final and unforgiving, filled me with a terror so profound it jolted me awake. | sat up, drenched in sweat. The hotel room was dark, the only light coming from the sliver of dawn peeking through the curtains. Cory was sleeping beside me, a faint, annoying smile on her lips. Seeing her there did nothing to quell the icy panic gripping my chest. The dream felt too real. Too prophetic. | grabbed my phone, my fingers clumsy. It was six in the morning. Our wedding day. ---- A wave of something akin to relief washed over me. It was just a dream. A stupid, stress-induced nightmare. Today, Elaina would walk down the aisle. Today, she would become my wife. Everything would be okay. | would make it okay. | would spend the rest of my life earning back her trust, proving that my stupid, reckless mistake with Cory was nothing more than a momentary lapse in judgment. Elaina was my anchor. My everything. The thought of losing her was unbearable. | imagined her at the apartment, getting ready. The way her hair would look, styled in the elegant updo she' d chosen. The way her eyes would light up when she saw me waiting for her at the altar. My phone buzzed, shattering the pleasant image. It was the wedding planner. "Derek, good morning!" she said, her voice a little too cheerful for this hour. "Just calling to check in. The hair and makeup team are at the apartment, but they can't seem to get an answer at the door." A knot of unease tightened in my stomach. "She's probably just sleeping in. She had a rough night." "Of course," the planner said, though | could hear the professional strain in her tone. "We'll wait. But the schedule is quite tight." ---- "I'll. call her," | said, my voice sharper than | intended. | hung up, the unpleasant premonition from my dream returning with a vengeance. My hands were trembling slightly as | dialed Elaina' s number. It rang once, twice, then went straight to voicemail. The number you have dialed is not in service. What? | tried again. Same result. Panic, cold and sharp, clawed at my throat. This wasn't right. Elaina never turned her phone off. She was the most reliable, punctual person | knew. Cory stirred beside me, her arm snaking around my waist. "What's wrong, handsome?" she murmured, her voice husky with sleep. "Come back to bed. The wedding isn't for hours." | shoved her arm off me, my patience completely gone. "Get up. "What?" she whined, sitting up. "But you said we could spend the morning together." "The game is over, Cory," | snapped, my eyes still fixed on the useless phone in my hand. "It was always just a game." | dialed the wedding planner again. "Is there any answer yet?" "No, Derek. We've been knocking for twenty minutes. We've called the building's front desk. There's no response." ---- The knot in my stomach twisted into a vise. Something was terribly wrong. She wasn' t at the apartment. She wouldn't have just left without telling anyone. Unless... unless something had happened to her. The concussion. The blood donation. Had she collapsed? Was she lying hurt inside, unable to call for help? The thought was a physical blow. | couldn't breathe. "I'm on my way," | said, my voice hoarse. | hung up and threw on my clothes, my movements frantic and uncoordinated. "Derek, where are you going?" Cory demanded, her voice rising with indignation. "You can't just leave me here!" | didn't even look at her. My mind was consumed with a single, terrifying thought: | had to get to Elaina. | had to make sure she was okay. Nothing else mattered.