“Oh,” he exhaled, the relief palpable. “Oh, okay. You crazy girl. You scared me again. Grandpa thought we fought, so tell him we didn't, so he would also talk about the inheritance.” He laughed. “I’m leaving the party now. I’ll head straight home, grab the ticket, and catch the next flight out. I’ll see you soon, baby.”
“Sure,” I said. “Goodbye, Nathan.”
“I love you,” he said.
I didn’t respond. I pulled the phone away from my ear.
I walked over to the nearest trash bin.
I looked at the device one last time—the connection to my old life, to his lies, to the pain. I dropped it in. It landed with a dull thud among the coffee cups and wrappers.
I turned around, straightened my spine, and handed my boarding pass to the attendant.
