Already Gone by John Rector Read Free Book Online

it.
    Something long buried is worming its way back into my life, our life. I don’t know who’s behind it, but I’m going to find out.
    Just not today.
    Today, I’m going to call the police.
    “I want you to promise me something, Jake.”
    The tears are gone, but the sadness is still there.
    “What’s that?”
    “Promise me you won’t get carried away,” she says. “Promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”
    “What are you talking about?”
    “Just promise me,” she says. “Promise me you’ll control your temper.”
    “Jesus, Diane, I told you I’d call the police and I won’t go down there. What else do you want?”
    “I want you to promise me.”
    “Fine, I promise.”
    Diane is quiet.
    I’m about to tell her I need to get off the phone if I’m going to call the police, but she speaks first.
    “I love you, Jake.”
    There’s something in her voice that I don’t like, something final, and I start to worry.
    “Listen, I’ll call the police and come straight home. We can talk when I get there, okay?”
    No answer.
    “We’ll laugh about all this someday. You’ll see.”
    Diane pauses. “Just remember your promise.”
    “Diane, I—”
    The line clicks, and she’s gone.
    I stand there for a moment, staring out the window with the phone pressed against my ear. Then I walk back to my desk and set the receiver in the cradle.
    I hesitate before I pick it up again and dial the number for the police. I go through all the right steps, just like she asked. It’s not how I want to handle it, but I gave my word.
    The police haven’t been able to do anything, and I don’t see that changing this time.
    And I’m right.
    By the time the police arrive, the two men are gone.

     
    After the police leave, I walk home. I keep an eye out for the two men the entire way, but there’s no one outside. The streets are deserted. The only sounds come from the wind and the scatter of dead leaves shuffling across the sidewalk as I pass.
    When I get close to my house, I see that Diane’s car is gone, and something inside me falls away.
    I force myself to keep moving, but each step feels heavier than the last. I want to believe she parked in the garage today, but I know it’s not true.
    She’s gone.
    The front door is unlocked, and I push it open and step inside. The house is quiet. I call Diane’s name, but there’s no answer.
    I let the door close behind me, then I walk into the kitchen and look out the window toward the garden at the far end of the lawn. Several yard bags are lying on the grass, and there’s a rake leaning against the alley gate, but there’s no sign of Diane.
    I call her name again.
    Still nothing.
    I walk out to the hall and open the door leading to the garage. My car is inside, but Diane’s is gone. Even though I’m not surprised, I don’t move for a long time. I tell myself she just went out and that she’ll be back any minute, but I know it’s not true.
    I close the garage door, then walk back to the kitchen and search for a note. I check all the obvious places, but there’s nothing.
    My thoughts roll over each other, one after another, and I can’t keep them straight.
    If she left, where did she go?
    I head down the hall to our bedroom and go straight for her closet. Diane’s clothes are inside, hung in a row. I push them aside, looking for her suitcase. It’s on the floor, right where it’s been since she got back from Phoenix.
    I feel some of the tension inside me melt away, and for the first time that afternoon, I smile.
    If she didn’t pack, she didn’t leave.
    All at once, the world seems lighter.
    I run my hand along the line of her clothes, feeling the fabric, soft and smooth under my fingers. I look for something I’ve seen her wear before, something I can attach a memory to, but nothing looks familiar.
    It doesn’t matter.
    She didn’t leave, and that’s all I need to know.
    I’m still smiling as I close the closet door. And even though my breath catches in