"Erik! Where are you? Call me as soon as you get this message! Please..."
Christine hung up her cell phone after what must have been the eighth call. She stared out the window and tried not to panic. The dark plumes of smoke that rose over Lower Manhattan made her stomach twist in knots.
He's okay. He has to be okay.
The television behind her blared report after report about the airplanes and various speculation as to what had happened on board. Christine had woken up not even a half hour ago to see the smoke outside. Then she heard the rising cacophony of sirens. Their apartment sat just east of Central Park, so she was in no danger. Erik, however, would have been in his classroom at Juilliard when all Hell broke lose. And now he wasn't answering his phone.
Christine gripped her cell phone and willed him to call her back. Nothing. The frantic outburst from the reporters on the news startled her and she whirled to look at them again. The horrifying image of the north tower collapsing in on itself greeted her instead. Thousands of people ran from it in a mass panic. She desperately searched the crowd for any sign of a white mask, but had no luck. Her fingers found his number again on her phone.
"Erik! Please call me! The tower fell. I need to know you're okay. Please..." She started to sob as she hit the End button.
What if he's dead? What if he was caught in a fire somewhere? What if...
She slumped on the couch and cried. If she lost Erik, she didn't see a way of moving on with a life that didn't include him. The very thought shattered her heart.
The second tower fell. Christine was no longer on the couch, but in the bathroom. She hadn't even eaten breakfast, yet her body forced her to heave repeatedly. The last wave subsided and she collapsed next to the toilet to catch her breath. Her phone still clutched in her hand, she whispered Erik's name over and over.
From the bathroom she could hear more reports about an attack-that's what this was, an attack-on the Pentagon. Suddenly she felt incredibly vulnerable, as though the next plane would smash into their apartment building. Christine somehow found her feet and quickly rushed to the living room again so she could look outside. No airplanes. The news had stated earlier that every flight in the country was grounded, but she couldn't help but think one might sneak through.
A glance at her phone showed no calls or texts. She thought about calling Erik again, but despair prevented her from dialing. Instead she grabbed Erik's suit coat that he had forgotten on the couch the previous night. Curling up with it like a security blanket, Christine wept.
The sound of the front door opening startled her from her tears. She gripped the coat and told her mind to stop playing tricks on her.
"Christine?"
She sat up in a flurry to see Erik standing in the doorway. His suit was covered in ashes and his hair was mussed up, but he looked unhurt.
"Erik!" Christine ran to him and hugged him tight enough to break his ribs. "Where have you been?! I've called you so many times! I thought you were dead!"
Erik hugged her just as tightly and tried not to shake. "My phone didn't have service. I came home as fast as I could. I'm sorry, angel. I'm sorry you were alone..."
"Just hold me and don't let go."