When Love is a Question Mark-Chapter 91: I have to!

Zinnia drifted in and out of sleep, her head resting against the arm of the couch. The ticking of the clock was steady, almost hypnotic, but it did little to calm the restless thoughts swirling in her mind.

It was silly, she thought, to miss someone this much when they had only been apart for a few hours. But that was how things had changed between them. Aside from James, when he went missing, she wasn’t used to this—this feeling of longing, of wanting to be near someone, of worrying when they weren’t around.

Her phone buzzed softly, and she jolted awake, her heart racing. She fumbled to pick it up, hoping it was Samuel. But it was just a message from her curator, a casual chat that could wait until tomorrow. Disappointed, she put the phone back down and pulled the blanket tighter around her.

As the night wore on, the loneliness crept in deeper. Zinnia found herself glancing at the hallway, at the shadows stretching down to the closed door of Samuel’s room. It was strange how different the house felt without him in it, as if the warmth he brought had been snuffed out, leaving her in the cold.

She thought back to when they first moved in together. Those days had been awkward, with Samuel’s distant, almost mechanical way of interacting with her. He would come home, exchange a few polite words, and then retreat to his room, leaving her to eat dinner alone.

Back then, she had learned not to expect much. She told herself that it was fine, that she could manage on her own, that she didn’t need him to make her feel at home. But things had shifted, slowly, without her even realizing it.

She got up from the couch and walked to the kitchen, her bare feet silent against the cool floor. She turned on the light, brightening the space with a soft, warm glow. The kitchen had become a place of comfort for her, especially in the mornings when Samuel was there.

She could still see him standing by the counter, his hair slightly tousled, a gentle smile playing on his lips as he made breakfast. They hadn’t said much, but the quiet moments were enough. It was like they didn’t need words to understand each other, to feel connected.

Zinnia let out a slow breath, trying to shake off the anxiety that was building inside her. She opened the fridge, looking for something to distract herself, but everything reminded her of Samuel. The eggs he liked to make, the fruits he sliced for her, even the bread he toasted.

It was like he had left little pieces of himself behind, even when he wasn’t there.

She reached for a bottle of water, taking a long sip as she leaned against the counter. The kitchen felt too big, too empty, and she found herself wishing he would walk through the door, even if just to tell her everything was okay.

Zinnia thought about texting him again, but she didn’t want to be a bother. Instead, she turned off the kitchen light and headed back to the living room. She couldn’t sleep, but she didn’t want to be alone in the dark of her bedroom either.

She settled back onto the couch, pulling the blanket over her legs. Her eyes felt heavy, but her mind wouldn’t rest. She thought about Samuel’s message, about how he said something urgent had come up. She trusted him, but there was a part of her that couldn’t help but worry.

What if it was something serious? What if he was in trouble and just didn’t want to tell her?

She sighed, trying to push the thoughts away. Samuel was strong, capable, and he had Timmy with him. Whatever it was, they would figure it out. She just had to be patient.

Meanwhile, Samuel and Timmy arrived at the small, private island. The night air was cool, with a slight breeze carrying the scent of the ocean. The island was quiet, almost eerily so, with only the faint sound of waves crashing against the shore in the distance.

Timmy glanced around, his expression tense. "Are you sure about this, Sir?" he asked, his voice low. "What if this turns out to be nothing?"

Samuel’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t look at Timmy. His eyes were focused on the dark silhouette of the island ahead, a mix of determination and dread flickering in them. "Then we’ll know," he said simply. "And that’s better than not knowing."

Timmy didn’t argue. He could see how much this was affecting Samuel, how the uncertainty was eating away at him. He had seen Samuel handle difficult situations before, but this felt different. There was more at stake, more to lose.

From the shore, they could see a small boat waiting for them, its engine idling softly. The villa they needed to reach was still separated by a stretch of dark water, a short but unnerving ride across the sea. Timmy could feel the tension building as they approached.

He glanced at Samuel, hesitant. "Sir, are you sure you can do this?" he asked quietly, concern lacing his words. "It’s not too late to turn back."

Samuel’s eyes hardened, though his hands were trembling. "I have to," he said, almost to himself. "I need to know. I can’t keep running from this."

Timmy wanted to protest, but he knew it would do no good. Samuel was determined, even if the fear was eating him alive. He just hoped his boss could handle the ride without falling apart.

As they stepped onto the boat, Samuel’s breathing grew shallow. His eyes darted to the water, and he could feel the old, familiar panic rising in his chest. The vast expanse of sea stretched around them, dark and endless, like it was waiting to swallow him whole.

He tried to brace himself, gripping the edge of the boat tightly. "I can do this," he whispered, almost like a mantra. "I have to."