Her fingers felt numb.
But she didn’t drop the phone.
She held it tighter.
Like it was the only thing keeping her standing.
“Who is she talking about?”
Her voice came out calm.
Too calm.
The kind of calm that hides a storm.
He didn’t answer.
She didn’t need him to.
She already knew.
“I’m ‘she’, right?”
Silence.
Again.
But this time—
It screamed.
He ran a hand through his wet hair.
Pacing.
Thinking.
Calculating.
Not grieving.
Not apologizing.
