I was terrified. What was going on? When I stood in the elevator, frightening images of loan sharks and mafia and every possible evil thing in the world came crashing down on me and I groaned and tried to put my brain on pause. There would be a perfectly good and realistic reason for his behavior, there had to be. Maybe he was about to sell his apartment and didn't want me hanging around if potential buyers wanted to look at it? He had never been particularly open with his personal life, for some reason. Never talked about his background or his family, other than that the apartment had been his mother's. He was just a private person.

When I got home, I tried to act like everything was just normal. I washed the dishes, picked up all the clothes I had tossed around when I was looking for a change a couple of days ago and then I sat down to play video games. But as soon as I sank down on my couch my thoughts started colliding in my brain again. What if Ash was in some kind of trouble anyway? He seemed used to going out to bars and stuff, maybe he had made an enemy somewhere? He wasn't a timid guy, that I had witnessed firsthand yesterday when he had pulled Simon away from me. He wasn't one to back down.

I should trust him. I should let him get his two days and just rest assure that he would call me as soon as he was able to. He had never failed a promise he had made to me before, why would he do that now? He wanted me to trust him. I should just do that.

My resolve faltered when I tried to sleep at night, and Ash being in trouble morphed into Ash having someone else. That reasoning held no logic at all, but apparently that didn't matter to my stupid mind. Even if he time and time again had said to me that he wasn't interested in anyone else, that he just wanted me, pictures of Ash with a faceless guy popped up. A guy that he had just forgot that he was supposed to meet. Someone he wanted to hide from me.

I didn't sleep a wink that night. And when lunchtime came at work the following day my head was in utter chaos. I couldn't see him in the cafeteria either. Even Chris wondered what was up with me, and he was certainly not the guy who noticed when someone was upset.

"What's up with you, did something happen?" he asked, his voice unusually worried. "You seem all spazzed out?"

I forced my gaze away from the kitchen area.

"Have you seen Ash anywhere? I haven't heard from him in a while and I'm starting to get pretty fucking worried."

Chris just sat there with his fork half-way to his mouth.

Oh, fuck me. What did I just say?

"I mean, my sister's worried, that makes me worried too," I added in a panic.

Chris gave me a sceptic look.

"Huh, you sister, right," he said. "No, I haven't seen him."

Then he continued to eat, not saying another word, something I didn't think he was capable of. Did he suspect something? Probably, but I couldn't do anything about that now, I had more important things to do. After not having touched my food I walked up to the kitchen and asked one of the guys in there if Ash had been in touch. He shook his head.

"The boss tried calling him when he didn't show this morning, but his phone was turned off. If you hear from him, tell him to call the boss if he wants to keep his job."

Cold sweat trickled down my back. This wasn't about some other guy; this was something else. Mafia and loan sharks started to pop up in my head again and I argued with myself whether or not to go to his apartment anyway. But he had made it perfectly clear to me that he didn't want me to do that. I didn't want to break that promise. At the same time, I had nightmarish images of Ash laying in a pool of his own blood on his apartment floor. I couldn't get it out of my head. He had until tomorrow. Tomorrow at noon. Then I would call him.

Tuesday morning came and I was a downright wreck in my cubicle. I was so tired I could hardly think anymore and the only thing I managed to do was to stare at my phone on the desk. He had said he would call. He had promised. So, he would. Chris had come by and quietly set down a cup of coffee in front of me, patted my back and then gone back to his own space. I had barely noticed it, other than the fact that it was Chris who har done it. He had never done that before.

Suddenly the phone started buzzing and I flinched and threw myself on it. But my heart sank as soon as I looked at the screen. Zoey.

"Are you two doing anything this weekend?" he greeted happily.

"I... don't know," I forced myself to say.

"Jamie, what is it?" she said and seemed to instantly pick up that something was wrong.

Everything just poured out of me. I simply couldn't hold it in any longer and Zoey was the only person I trusted. I told her how Ash had suddenly thrown me out, how he had sounded on the phone, that he hadn't called me. How I was sure that he was dead on his apartment floor by now.

"Calm down," she said after I ended my desperate rant. "I promise you that there's a normal explanation to this."

"Like what?" I hissed.

"Like he has some family emergency that he's not comfortable discussing with you yet. Damn it, you've acted in this exact way with your previous girlfriends, don't you remember that?"

That was very true. I squeezed my eyes shut in frustration over how right she was.

"But why hasn't he called yet?" I moaned anyway.

"He will, when he's ready," my sister calmed me. "He did promise, just be patient. Everyone don't just open up their whole life like that, you of all people should know that."

Zoey had effectively brought down my anxiousness several notches and I managed to actually get some work done before the worry started up again. It was almost five in the afternoon and still no sign from Ash. Then I made up my mind. I didn't break any promises now, more than two days had passed so I was entitled to at least send him a text. I pondered for a while what to write but ended up with just a few words.

"How are you?"

I sat there looking at the text on the bus home, and just before it was my stop, I got the notification that he had read it. The relief was so big I almost fell over when trying to get off the bus and I ran all the way up to my apartment in silly joy. But the initial happiness I got over his sign of life quickly disappeared. He didn't answer me. One hour passed with no return text. Then two hours. Nothing.

Finally, anguish screamed in me and I dialed his number. His phone was on, but no answer. I couldn't make myself talk to the answering machine and just hung up. The numbers on the screen told me it was 8 PM. All of a sudden, the phone rang. Unknown number. Had he switched numbers for some reason, maybe?

"Is this Jamie?" a vaguely familiar voice said.

"Yeah?" I answered hesitating.

"Oh, thank the Lord, this is Florian."

Florian? How did he get my number?

"Hi," I said in surprise. "How–,"

"You need to come get Ash," he interrupted, his voice almost sounding apologetic. "Heard from an acquaintance that he's at Cupid's Den, you know the bar, and apparently he's totally wasted."

"Wasted?" I yelled at the phone, not managing to process what Florian was saying.

"Well, he's so wasted that he'll be kicked out if no-one comes and gets him. I could do it, but I think he'll react better if you do it."

My head was spinning. Why was Ash dead-drunk in a bar? Had he been partying for two days? But it didn't matter, I knew where he was now, and I rushed out the door.

"Thanks, Florian," I breathed.

"Anytime, honey. Get back to me tomorrow with how things went down."