His parents showed up instead.
Darrell Swanson looked me up and down, then started in. "Fighting with Kevin again? Roberta, if our son really wanted that Adela girl, you think he'd have married you?"
"I'm not trying to be harsh, but you've always been petty. No vision. If you'd just kept your mouth shut back then, Kevin wouldn't have lost his job. He'd still be collecting dividends every month instead of working himself to the bone."
Jemima Swanson pulled out her phone with a theatrical sigh. "Roberta, a man as successful as Kevin is bound to attract attention. That's just how it is. You need to give him a son—lock down his heart. Otherwise, you'll really have something to cry about."
She shoved the screen in my face.
Kevin had posted on social media last night, after he left.
In the photo, he had his arm wrapped tight around Adela, wiping her tears, his face soft with tenderness.
Traveled a thousand miles, just to see you one more time.
I opened my phone, but I couldn't find Kevin's post anywhere.
Then it hit me—he'd blocked me.
I called him again and again. Every single one went unanswered.
After the last rejected call, I asked quietly, "Are you sure he went to see Adela?"