Chapter 1 - The Call That Never Ended
There are moments when your entire life divides itself into two clean pieces.
Before.
And after.
For me, the dividing line was a phone call Liam forgot to disconnect.
Before that afternoon, I believed I was exhausted because I had a newborn.
Afterward, I understood I had been exhausted because I was raising a baby while desperately trying to keep alive a marriage my husband had already abandoned.
Our daughter, Hailey, was seven weeks old.
She was asleep against my chest that afternoon, one tiny fist tucked beneath her chin, when I called Liam.
I almost didn't.
For weeks, every conversation with my husband had made me feel like an inconvenience.
But I had spent the afternoon preparing chicken casserole, and I wanted to know whether I should wait for him.
He answered after five rings.
"What?"
Not hello.
Not hey, babe.
Just what.
"Sorry," I whispered automatically. "I wanted to know if you'll be home for dinner."
A long sigh came through the phone.
"Probably not."
"Oh."
"I'm working, Emma."
"I know. I just thought—"
"Can you stop checking up on me?"
His voice suddenly sharpened.
"I'm not checking up on you."
"It feels like it."
Hailey stirred against my chest.
I lowered my voice.
"I just wanted to know if you'd be home."
"I have meetings."
"Okay."
I waited.
Part of me hoped he would soften.
He didn't.
"Love you," I said.
Silence.
Then the line became quiet.
I assumed he'd hung up.
I placed my phone beside Hailey's bottle.
A few seconds later, I noticed the screen.
The call timer was still moving.
03:41.
03:42.
03:43.
I reached for the phone.
Then I heard a woman laugh.
I froze.
It wasn't a television.
It wasn't someone passing Liam in an office hallway.
She sounded close.
Very close.
Then Liam spoke.
"She’s driving me insane."
I stopped breathing.
The woman said something too softly for me to understand.
Liam laughed.
"Seriously. Sending me pictures of the baby all day, asking when I'm coming home. I just want her to leave me alone."
My eyes dropped to Hailey.
My daughter was sleeping peacefully against me.
That morning, I'd sent Liam exactly one picture.
Hailey had smiled in her sleep.
I thought her father would want to see it.
The woman laughed again.
Then she asked a question.
This time, I caught two words.
"Your wife?"
Liam answered immediately.
"Of course I hate her."
Something inside me went completely still.
Not shattered.
Not exploded.
Still.
"I barely touch her anymore," Liam continued. "Just wait. I'll divorce her, and then I'll marry you."
Then came a sound no wife could misunderstand.
A kiss.
I stared at the wall.
The living room around me suddenly felt unfamiliar.
The family photographs.
Our wedding portrait.
The blanket Liam's mother had knitted for Hailey.
The little wooden sign above the fireplace that read HOME.
All of it looked like scenery from somebody else's life.
My thumb hovered above the red button.
I could have screamed.
I could have demanded answers.
Instead, I quietly ended the call.
Hailey woke and began fussing.
I looked down at her.
"It's okay," I whispered.
But I wasn't talking to her.
I was trying to convince myself.
That evening, Liam came home at 9:17.
He carried grocery-store flowers.
"Hey."
I was feeding Hailey.
"Hey."
He kissed my forehead.
"Missed my girls."
I almost laughed.
Instead, I looked at the flowers.
Yellow roses.
He knew I hated yellow roses.
"Long meeting?"
"Brutal."
He loosened his tie.
"Clients wouldn't stop talking."
I watched him walk toward the kitchen.
Then his phone buzzed.
He looked at the screen.
And smiled.
Not the tired smile he'd given me.
A real smile.
He immediately turned the phone facedown.
"Who's that?" I asked.
His eyes snapped toward me.
"Work."
I nodded.
That night, I lay beside him listening to his breathing.
At 1:12 a.m., he thought I was asleep.
He took his phone into the bathroom.
The door clicked shut.
Light appeared underneath it.
I didn't move.
The next morning, Liam changed his passcode.
Two days later, he started taking his phone into the shower.
By Friday, he had bought a new bottle of cologne.
And every night there was another meeting.
Another emergency.
Another excuse.
For six days, I said nothing.
Because something strange happened after the initial pain.
I became calm.
And once I became calm, I started noticing things.
Receipts.
Unexplained charges.
A restaurant reservation for two.
A hotel parking charge from a night Liam supposedly worked until midnight.
And one name appearing repeatedly on notifications before he could hide them.
Sophie.
I didn't need to break into his phone.
I didn't need to follow him.
Liam had already told me everything that mattered.
He hated me.
He wanted another woman.
And he planned to divorce me when it suited him.
Fine.
But there was something Liam didn't know.
Our second wedding anniversary was Sunday.
Originally, I had planned a quiet dinner.
Just Liam, Hailey, and me.
Instead, I called my mother.
Then Liam's mother.
Then our siblings.
"Come Sunday," I told them.
"Anniversary dinner."
Everyone sounded delighted.
Liam had no idea.
Sunday afternoon, I roasted chicken.
I made mashed potatoes.
Green beans.
Dinner rolls.
Pumpkin pie.
The house smelled warm and comforting.
Exactly like a happy marriage should smell.
At six, the doorbell rang.
Liam came downstairs.
His face changed when he saw his parents entering.
"What's this?"
"Our anniversary surprise," I said.
For the first time all week, I saw uncertainty in his eyes.
Two hours later, both families sat around our dining table laughing.
Hailey kicked happily in her high chair.
Liam relaxed.
He probably thought he'd worried for nothing.
Then dessert plates were cleared.
I stood.
"I want to make a toast."
Conversation stopped.
Liam looked at me.
And immediately stiffened.
I smiled.
"My dear husband, Liam..."
Then I reached for my phone.
And his face went white.
May you like
Because my anniversary surprise was finally beginning.
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