I looked out the plane window at the billowing clouds. I was done waiting. From now on, I would be the bird soaring past the glass, living only for myself.
The moment I landed and turned off airplane mode, my phone vibrated violently. Thirty messages from Alex Delgado flooded the screen.
Alex Henson, are you seriously making a scene about divorce just because Yolanda is pregnant?
How can you be so selfish? You know I'm up for a promotion to Chief. You just can't stand to see me succeed, can you?
What I have with Yolanda is a responsibility. She has no one. Do you want me to be the kind of man who abandons a vulnerable woman? Why can't you understand me?
Where are you? Why is your location off?
Alex Henson, what the hell did you say to Yolanda before you left? She's spotting now. If she loses this baby, it's on you.
You vindictive woman—if you leave now, don't you dare come crawling back!
The barrage of narcissism filled the chat window. In ten years of marriage, he had never texted me this much. And every single message was an accusation, every word revolving around Yolanda.