The appointment.
Callie.
No. No, no, no.
“Shit,” I muttered.
His brow furrowed. “There a problem?”
I didn’t answer. Couldn’t. My hand fumbled for my phone. I swiped up, fingers clumsy, and opened the calendar. There it was.
OB-GYN – 1:00 p.m.
Clear as day.
The location. The time.
Except no alert.
I always set reminders. Always.
Lucy also double-checked, and she’d drilled that habit into Sophie too. But this one had somehow slipped through the cracks.
My mouth went dry.
When Callie told me she’d set the appointment two weeks ago, I had told her I’d be there. But I depended on those alerts too damn much and hadn’t even looked at my calendar this morning.
Callie had gone alone.
My stomach twisted, nausea curling hot in the back of my throat.
“I have to go,” I mumbled, standing so fast my chair rolled back.
Gage blinked. “What’s going on?”
“I forgot. Shit.” I was already moving, half-aware of Gage saying something else behind me.
But I didn’t stop.
Because my wife had called me once. Just once.
And I hadn’t picked up.
I burst out of the building into the attached parking garage, nearly colliding with someone as I yanked my phone back out of my pocket.
My hand shook as I hit Callie’s name and lifted the phone to my ear.
It rang once. Twice.
Then straight to voicemail.
“Shit.” I hung up and called again, barely giving it a beat.
Voicemail again.
I swore under my breath and opened our message thread, typing fast.
Me
