At first, I don’t even check who it is.
I just keep going through the contracts I brought back to the hotel.
After the shitty day I’ve had. After finding out what Philip did and that confrontation with May, the last thing I need is a call from an unknown number.
But then the calls keep coming. One after another.
Three missed calls. Then six.
I ignore every single one.
Then the texts start.
Something’s wrong.
Please pick up.
Colin, it’s me. I need you. Our baby needs you.
Maya.
I think with an exasperated sigh. I stare at the screen for a long time.
I wish I could say I feel something. Panic, guilt, sympathy.
But all I feel is exhaustion.
For all I know, it’s just another desperate attempt to claw back my attention, or my sympathy. And I have neither left to give her. So I set the phone aside and decide to go to sleep.
When I wake up from the alarm blaring beside me, there’s a new text. Sent less than twenty minutes ago.
A hospital name and a room number staring back at me. That one makes me call.
She answers on the first ring. Voice trembling, wet with tears.
“Colin. Please... can you come?”
“No,” I say flatly. “Whatever you have to say, say it over the phone.”
There’s a pause. Then a noise that barely resembles speech.
Just breath breaking apart.
“I lost it,” she whispers. “The baby. I lost our baby.”
Neither of us says a word. I can hear her sniffing on the other end of the line. And then, before I can stop myself, the words slip out.
“Thank fuck.”
I hang up. I set the phone down.
Feel... nothing. No guilt. No sadness.
Just relief.
The first thing I did when I got to the office this morning was email Legal. I told them to start preparing everything required for a restraining order.
I attached the doorbell cam video, her standing on our porch, the audio of her talking to Alicia like she belongs there.
