"I was right, I… I was right. Of course you never loved me. Why would you? I did everything. I was a good father. I cared about you. I did every beautiful thing a man in love—a father—could ever do for you.
But you… You are the most selfish person I've ever met in my entire life, Michelle."
Brian had assumed Michelle ran away after finding her clothes, keys, and phone missing from the house. When he checked her old phone, he discovered the iCloud account was still logged in—and the last known location was New York.
He thought she had run off with Theo. Still, deep down, he held onto a fragile hope. Whether she loved him or not didn't matter anymore. There was a child involved—a child who couldn't just be abandoned like this. Someone had to step up. Clearly, Michelle had failed at motherhood.
Who leaves a seven-month-old baby and her husband for an ex?
Brian wasn't entirely sure of what he believed. He had tried calling Theo, but got no answer. Michelle wasn't picking up either, and his nerves were shredded.
Could it be that Theo, not finding what he wanted after the wedding, had kidnapped her?
Brian found himself at Vivian's doorstep, explaining the situation. But not only did she know nothing, she ended up blaming Brian. Frustrated, he left, knocking on the doors of anyone Michelle had been in contact with. Some let him in, some he had to threaten. He was looking for any trace of her.
He had no choice but to go to New York.
But who would take care of Love?
Brian's parents were out of town and knew nothing about what happened. Michelle had tried calling her mother the day she disappeared but hung up before she could say anything—Brian didn't know she was vacationing in Turkey. When he found out, he decided not to ruin their trip with this.
Vivian wasn't an option. He couldn't leave Love with her. He had no other choice: he would take Love with him.
"You fucking bitch. YOU FUCKING BITCH! You didn't think about me, fine—but you didn't even think about her? You fucking piece of shit."
He kept cursing under his breath, his rage uncontrollable.
But he had to calm himself. It was a long trip.
"Calm down, Brian. She didn't leave you. Theo took her. Just… don't think."
He packed the suitcase, loaded it into the car, and called his boss.
"Brian, you've been slacking lately. And now you're asking for two days off?"
"Sir, you're absolutely right. I wish I could tell you the reason, but please, I'll do anything. I just need these two days."
"And who's going to cover for you, Brian? You can't just leave like that."
"Vincent. Vincent knows the site like the back of his hand. He reads blueprints well, he knows what needs to be done and where. You can trust him."
"I hope so, Brian. When you come back, we're going to have a serious talk."
Brian then called Vincent, explained the situation, and ended the call with:
"Do the job right, man. Don't make me look bad—or I swear I'll fuck you up."
He would later regret those words, but at that moment, he needed to look serious—angry—so Vincent would take the job seriously.
When they arrived at the airport, they barely made it in time. Brian thought flying might bring him some peace. He was wrong.
His head wouldn't shut up. The voices in his mind wouldn't stop.
He tried to calm himself down, played with Love a little, and once she fell asleep, he realized how hungry he was.
He hadn't eaten anything since Michelle disappeared. It was only now that it hit him.
But he had no appetite.
He ordered a hot sandwich and a beer, took one bite, and that was it.
He could barely drink the beer.
He just kept thinking—trying to pull himself together.
There were six long hours ahead of him. He needed to focus.
One of the flight attendants caught his eye. Actually, they were all pretty, but one stood out.
But what drew Brian's attention wasn't her beauty. It was the fact that she was a woman.
He was getting irrationally angry at the women around him—barely holding back from lashing out.
"Look at you. All dressed up, boobs hanging out. I bet you fuck up men's lives like mine every day, you fucking whore," he thought.
And it wasn't just her. He was full of hate toward every woman around him.
Then something clicked in his mind.
What if Michelle was innocent?
What if she didn't leave him?
The note was in her handwriting—but what if it was forced?
What if Theo… or someone else… made her write it?
As he dug deeper into the thought, it started to make more sense.
His rage didn't vanish, but he began to believe again. His wife loved him.
She wouldn't leave him.
After the six-hour flight, Brian took a cab to a hotel downtown. He dropped off the bags, strapped Love into the baby carrier, and started walking the city streets.
The goal was clear—he was going to find Michelle using the iCloud location from her old phone.
But how could he do that with Love in tow?
What if something happened to her?
As much as he wanted to save his wife, he needed a car. At least Love could wait inside while he rescued Michelle.
Then it hit him.
"Why the fuck am I not calling the police?"
But he hesitated.
"When did they ever help anyway?"
He didn't have time to waste.
He went to a rental agency and got a car for $100 a day.
Then bought a baby car seat for $70.
He had to manage his money carefully.
He made $6,500 a month, but since it was near the end of the month, he had only $2,400 left.
$260 went to plane tickets, $20 for the food on the plane, $100 for the car rental, $70 for the baby seat, and $210 for a night in an average hotel. That was $660 gone already.
He needed to be smart with the rest.
Michelle's location wasn't showing anymore.
He'd spent hours trying to get it to pop back up on her phone—but no luck.
"Fuck my luck," Brian muttered. He needed another way.
He sat in a café with Love.
Brian ate what he could.
Love, unaware of her mother's disappearance, was energetic. She kept waving at strangers, babbling in baby talk. She was happy.
Brian wasn't.
He couldn't deal with these people. His head was a mess.
He opened Instagram and spammed Theo with messages—some threatening, some desperate.
He knew he wouldn't get a reply, but he had to try.
Maybe he'd get lucky.
By the end of the day, he had checked every possible location.
He returned to the hotel at 2 a.m.
Love had been crying in the car, unable to sleep because of the bumpy ride.
Brian wasn't used to the rental and kept jerking the wheel. She'd fall asleep and then wake up crying.
When they finally got back, Brian barely managed to put her to sleep.
He stepped out onto the balcony and lit a cigarette.
He watched people passing on the street below.
Everyone was laughing, enjoying life.
It pissed him off.
How could they be happy while he was drowning?
Everyone should be depressed, he thought.
He stepped back in to check on Love. She was sleeping.
He exhaled deeply, stepped back out, and watched the city again.
A music shop on the ground floor of the building across the street caught his eye.
"I wish I was a musician," he whispered, flicking his cigarette into the night.
"Maybe then I wouldn't be dealing with this shit."
He set his alarms.
Tomorrow was his only chance.
He had one day to find Michelle and return to work.
The next morning, he had breakfast early. Then extended the car rental by one more day.
Michelle's location still didn't show up.
He sat in the car, thinking, until Love started crying.
To calm her down, he started driving aimlessly through the city.
Two hours passed like that.
He stopped for gas and overheard two teenagers talking:
"Dude, take a full-body pic."
"Like this?"
"No, idiot—take a step back."
"Okay, okay. Ready… done. That good?"
"Bro, look at this girl!" one of them said, flashing his phone.
"We just started talking on Insta last night. Isn't she hot?"
Hearing that took Brian back to high school.
Those were good times…
When he walked into the gas station to pay, a thought hit him:
Instagram might help him find Theo's family—maybe even figure out where they were staying.
By noon, Brian had already messaged Theo's mother—Irene.
She didn't know him, so he wasn't expecting a reply.
But he was determined.
One hour later, a message popped up.
"Come to '...' Hotel in two hours, handsome 😘"
"What the… fuck?"
He didn't know if she was single or married.
Didn't matter.
If this got him closer to Michelle, he'd go.
He didn't want to leave Love at the reception.
So he took her with him.
"Welcome, sir. Unfortunately, we can't share any information about our guests," the receptionist responded politely.
"No, no, she called me here. I'm her son. Theo Bernthal."
"Can I see your ID, please?"
Brian started patting his pockets, pretending to look. "Shit. I must've left it at home. Please, just let me through."
"I'm sorry, sir. Have a good day," the receptionist said, nodding toward the exit. And with a smug little smile, she added, "Please come again."
"Alright, alright. I'm her fuckbuddy, okay? We meet here behind her husband's back. Just call her and tell her Brian Easton is here."
The receptionist looked at Love first, then at Brian, clearly judging him with her eyes. Still, she picked up the phone. After a short conversation, she gave Brian the room number.
Brian took the elevator up to the 24th floor and knocked on the door.
"Welcome, sweetheart. Come on in," Irene said. But the moment she saw Love, she looked surprised—and gave Brian a strange look.
What shocked Brian was how old she was. The woman had to be in her 60s. How could someone like Theo be so young when his mother looked… like that?
"Bringing your kid to hookups? Is that a kink or something?" Irene asked, visibly judging.
"I'm not here for that. I just needed to talk. You've actually made things easier," Brian said, taking a seat. "I need to ask you a question, Irene."
Irene stood there with her arms crossed, eyeing Brian as if trying to figure out what this was about.
"Would you sit down?" he asked.
Irene shook her head. "Talk."
"Alright then. I'm a friend of Theo's," Brian started.
"A pretty close friend, actually. I wanted to ask where he lives. I know what you're gonna say—'Why don't you ask him yourself?'—but I don't have another option."
"Are you fucking with me?" Irene snapped suddenly. "Get the fuck out of my room or I'll call security!"
Brian got up and left the room without a word. But he was already thinking about his second plan. He knew it wasn't going to be that easy.
He got into the car, strapped Love into her seat, and parked near the hotel entrance, eyes fixed on the door. He knew Irene lived with her husband, so she probably wasn't staying here for long. Sure enough, Irene walked out a while later and got into her car. Brian started the engine and began tailing her.
"Here ı come Irene."