He paused.For the first time his gaze rested on me.“You just got out of the hospital.You should rest,”he said quietly.
Still,he reached for the papers.His fingers had barely touched the page when his phone rang.The contact name flashed on the screen and I glanced:“Baby.”
He kept Vanessa’s name stored so sweetly;mine had always been formal,my full name.The contrast said everything.
Holding the bouquet in one hand,he smiled and answered as he walked toward the door.“I won’t be home for dinner.Go back after work by yourself.”
I stepped forward,flipped to the last page,and shoved a pen into his hand.“Sign first.”
My husband frowned.He was cautious—he checked every word before signing anything.But the phone rang again.Even at near-mute volume,Vanessa’s voice poured through,playful and breathy.“Xavier,I’ve been waiting forever!Hurry up…”
And so the careful man didn’t read a single line.He flicked his wrist and scrawled his name.My heart,which had been lodged in my throat,dropped—and then a flash of self-mockery passed through me.If he’d looked twice,he’d have seen he wasn’t signing a property contract at all.
“Done.Satisfied?Can I go now?”he said,sarcastic.