If he truly cared, how could he not notice that this home had already become empty?
He kissed my forehead and left with his usual smile.
I didn’t stop him; I had intended to go to the resort to remove that lock.
We had hung it there eight years ago.
If I didn’t take it down, it would just feel unlucky.
By evening, I was ready to leave.
But Ross still hadn’t come back.
He sent a message.
[Sudden business trip. Next time, okay, babe? Be good. We’ll go when I come back.]
I stared at the message with no reaction and opened Instagram.
Ross didn’t even know I had an account.
He always thought I was old-fashioned and wouldn’t be online.
That’s why he acted so brazenly, thinking I could never uncover the truth.
I refreshed Zamora’s feed.
My pupils constricted when I saw the latest post—a photo of a prenatal checkup dated today.
The caption read: [Baby, Mommy and Daddy are so excited to meet you!]
Ross’s comment was first.
[Daddy will love Mommy well.]
I blinked rapidly, trying to suppress the breakdown.
My baby had quietly passed away, unnoticed, while Zamora and Ross’s child was being celebrated in public.
The “business trip” Ross had told me about—it was to be with Zamora and their child.