Daniel’s voice came through the phone—casual, almost cheerful.
“I’m getting married this weekend.”
Olivia blinked slowly.
The words sounded unreal.
Rain tapped harder against the window.
“And?” she asked flatly.
“I figured it would be… polite to invite you.”
For a moment she wondered if she had heard him wrong.
Invite her.
To his wedding.
Six months after their divorce.
Six months after he walked away from their unborn child.
A tired laugh escaped her.
“Daniel,” she said quietly, “I just gave birth.”
There was silence.
Then his voice cooled.
“Fine. I just thought you should know.”
Click.
The call ended.
Olivia stared up at the ceiling.
Her chest ached in a dull, familiar way.
Not the sharp sting of betrayal anymore. That pain had burned itself out long ago.
This feeling was heavier.
Disappointment.
Regret.
The shadow of a life that could have been.
Margaret leaned forward.
“What did he want?”
Olivia forced a faint smile.
“He invited me to his wedding.”
Margaret scoffed.
“The audacity of that man.”
Olivia said nothing.
Her gaze drifted back to the bassinet.
You’re better off without him, she told herself.
Thirty quiet minutes passed.