A Thousand and One Words

Chapter Two:

   Once again, my call didn't go through. I slammed it down into the couch and buried my face into my hands, tears streaming down my cheeks. 

   "Where are you?" I called out into the air. 

   My phone buzzed and hope filled my body. I snatched it and quickly swiped at my wet eyes, so I could see who it was. 

   Instead of Ethan, it was my apartment neighbors, telling me to quiet down- that I was disturbing their sleep. 

   As I tried to call him again, a cold realization washed over me. He left, I thought. This time- I said it out loud. "He left me!" 

   I tore my long blonde hair away from my tearstained face and looked down, rubbing my hands over my pregnant belly. There were no tears left. Just anger. Lovely, bitter anger.

~*~

   I awoke with a gasp and shook my head, trying to clear the dream-memory from my head. 

   That had happened four years ago, two months before Harper was born. I had met a man named Ethan Par five years ago at a party a few months after I graduated college. He was the most handsome man I had ever met.

   He had wavy brown hair that fell in his yellow-brown eyes, olive colored skin, and long black eyelashes. We clicked immediately and it was pretty much the best time of my life. About a year later, we started living together. It was my biggest regret, but also my greatest blessing. We... you know... and then I found out a month later that I was pregnant. 

   About a month after that, Ethan started coming home later. He started to not look like himself and not act like himself, either. I was worried, but he wouldn't talk to me about it. Finally, about 6 months later, I gave up. And he didn't come home. 

   I released my grip on my sheets and climbed out of bed, heading to the bathroom. I stared into the mirror and reached up to touch my crazy blonde hair. I glanced over at my clock and gasped. I was late for work. Very late. I quickly applied some mascara and foundation, dabbed on some eyeshadow and blush, lined my eyes with eyeliner,  then ran to my closet.

   I shuffled through my clothes and decided on an extremely soft, extra large, blush pink pullover and ripped light-wash jeans. I changed quickly, then slipped into tan ankle boots. I rushed back into the bathroom, pulled my brush through my hair, then french braided a small section of hair at the top of my head and coiled the extra hair into a bun at the top. 

   I smoothed down my shirt and hurried over to Harper's room. "Wake up, honey," I said, shaking her. Harper groaned and flopped around. I huffed and resorted to pulling her into my arms and setting her onto the floor. "I'm up!" She said, looking up at me with tired eyes. I went to her closet and took out a pair of jeans and a fuzzy pink sweater with a fox on it. "Get dressed," I ordered, making my way to the kitchen. 

   Harper came in a few minutes later, all dressed and with shoes on and her hair brushed. While I was waiting for the toast to... well, toast, I Dutch braided Harper's waist long, dirty blonde hair. The toast popped out of the toaster just as I tied the ends of her hair with an elastic. I quickly buttered both slices of toast and handed one to Harper. 

   I snatched my phone off of the counter, grabbed my purse and coat, and ushered Harper to the door.

~*~

   After dropping Harper off at Jude's I started to drive in the direction to work, but turned around halfway there. I headed to the local jail. 

   The news headline that had gotten me so worked up last night was this:

25 YEAR OLD MAN, ETHAN PAR, CAUGHT WITH STOLEN VALUABLES ADDING UP TO ONE MILLION DOLLARS