“Please. Dominic’s hopeless. Loriana says her feet hurt and he’s already on his knees.”
I didn’t even realize I was crying until my vision started swimming.
Then, his voice. “Who’s got my phone?” Calm. Cold.
“Uh, no one. It just—must’ve answered by accident.”
I could hear footsteps. Then silence.
When he spoke again, his tone changed completely. Sweet. Gentle. Like he was playing husband again.
“Baby? You still up? I’ve got a late meeting tonight. Go rest. I’ll come home and take care of you and the baby, alright?”
My throat hurts. “Dominic, I called to say I want—”
Then I heard her. A woman. Soft voice, close to the phone. “Dom, my feet hurt!”
He went quiet for a moment. Then quickly said, “Rosie, be good. Go to sleep. I’ll be home soon.”
And the line went dead.
I stared at the phone, then I started laughing. Not because it was funny. But because there was nothing else left in me.
When I stopped, my cheeks were dry, and I was looking at two things on the table…my divorce papers, and the small box they gave me at the hospital. The one with what was left of my baby.
I loved him. God, I loved him so much. But I could still leave.
I don’t know how many hours I sat there before I stood up. I picked up the little box, sealed it and put it in the freezer.
A few minutes later, I heard the front door open.
“Baby, why aren’t you asleep yet?” Dominic’s jacket slung over his arm, tie hanging loose. He looked tired but still perfect, like always. “What are you doing in the fridge? You hungry?”
I didn’t answer. I just stared at him.
He hesitated, then smiled and from behind him, he pulled out a small, pretty box. “Look what I found. You’ve been craving this, right? I had to go all over the city just to get it.”
He opened the box carefully, laying out the pastries one by one… the same ones I used to eat when I couldn’t keep anything down during the pregnancy.
Once, I would’ve run into his arms, kissed his cheek, thanked him for being so thoughtful.
Now I just felt sick.
“What’s wrong?” he asked, frowning when I didn’t react. “Is the baby making you uncomfortable again?”
He reached out to touch my stomach. I caught his hand before he could.
“Sign this first,” I said quietly, handing him the envelope I’d left on the counter.
He blinked, confused. “What is it?”
Before he could open it, his phone rang. The name flashing on the screen made my stomach twist. Loriana.