“Julian, she said ‘Mama’ today,” a woman’s voice laughed softly. “You should’ve been here to hear it. Next time I’ll teach her to call for you.”
Seraphine.
My throat closed. This wasn’t my phone.
Another tap.
“Do you think it’s okay if she starts calling you Dad now?” A man replied, his voice thick with happiness I hadn’t heard in years. “I’ll tuck Elara in and head over soon.”
Him.
I remembered the night before everything fell apart. I’d woken thirsty and gone looking for him, assuming he was still buried in paperwork. He wasn’t working at all. He was with her.
Our wedding night replayed in my head.
I had whispered, half-joking, “If you ever fall out of love with me, just take the ring back. I’ll disappear from your life.”
He’d kissed my temple and promised, “If I ever hurt you, I deserve to die forgotten.”
Footsteps approached from the kitchen. I slid the phone back exactly where I’d found it.
Julian came in carrying a bowl, sitting close enough that I could feel warmth radiating from him. “Careful, it’s hot,” he said, guiding the spoon like I was something precious.
His phone rang.
He paused, then picked up.
“Yes?” His voice shifted instantly.