"You’re just going to hang up because I called you out? If you’ve got any sense left, take the bus back tomorrow, and I’ll forgive you!"
I ended the call without another word.
He called seven or eight more times, but I muted my phone and watched the screen darken each time.
A notification dinged—his Instagram message.
"Fine! If you want to act up, go ahead! Spend the New Year alone! Don’t even think about asking me to pick you up!"
A bitter smile tugged at the corners of my mouth.
Before we got married, he’d rush back from his hometown just to watch a movie with me.
When I was afraid of the dark, he’d leave all the lights on for me when I was alone at home.
After we married, he always made sure to come home early.
But now, all of that seemed like a distant memory, long forgotten.
Just then, a group message notification popped up.
[Paula Keith]: "Dear uncles and aunts, I’ll be turning one on February 8th! Mommy is throwing a party at home to celebrate. You all have to come! Here’s some candy for everyone."
The profile picture was a pouting selfie of Paula.
[Ian Shaw]: "Everyone, let’s take this chance to get together like old times."
I froze. When did Ian change the group name?