The blanket she used to snuggle up to on cold nights was gone. Even her design books, the ones she used for her projects, were no longer on the shelf.
Logan’s pulse pounded. Madison never left things unfinished. She never left without saying where she was going. Unless she no longer felt she owed him something.
She pushed open the bedroom door. The room looked as if it had been emptied overnight. The open closet displayed empty hangers and a few dresses she no longer wore.
The drawer of maternity t-shirts was ajar, completely empty. But what pierced him most was the silence. Heavy. Accusing.
Near the window, something made her stomach churn. The prenatal appointment calendar was torn in two on the floor. And the ultrasound image was gone.
She swallowed hard. That image meant everything to her. He watched her every night, whispering promises that he heard… and never answered.
For the first time, Logan felt something unknown: powerlessness.
And then she saw the final blow. On the nightstand was the pen he had given her on their first Christmas together. She used it for everything.
He had left her. A symbol. A message. Madison wouldn’t be coming back.