June

My hands roam over the empty sheets, searching for the heat of his muscles, but it's met with only coldness.

"Uh—" my lips mutter as I blink into the empty room.

Where is he?

My fingers keep tapping the bed, restless, until it hits me—I don’t even know what time it is.

Sharply, I spring upright, panic in my throat as my eyes dart around for my phone.

How could he not wake me? Shit.

The spiral halts for a beat when I see the screen: 10:30pm.

Then—buzz, buzz, ...