“I just made it to my hotel. I could’ve stayed with my mama or daddy, but I needed sleep without somebody waking me up talking every five minutes.”
Khloe hummed sleepily.
Coffee kept going. “And guess who called me trying to see me while I’m in town—”
I looked over and Khloe was sleep with her mouth wide open.
I laughed, reaching over and picking up the phone.
“Coffee, this girl is knocked out.”
“What the fuck? Already?”
“Hell yeah.”
“Well alright. Tell her to call me in the morning.”
“I will.”
We hung up, and I went to set her phone back down beside her pillow…. when I noticed the screen lit up again. She had so many missed calls from a name saved as “Stacks”. I wasn’t the type to go through my wife’s phone. Never had been, but the calls were back to back while we were at our daughter’s party.
Something about it didn’t sit right. I glanced at Khloe who was still asleep. I told myself to put the phone down, but my hand wouldn’t. The call log opened and the name showed up again.
And again.
And again.
Long calls.
Early morning calls.
Evening calls.
Daily.
Frequent enough that I didn’t need anyone to explain what I was looking at. I scrolled trying to find a text thread, but there was none. Just calls, which somehow made it worse.
My chest felt tight like the air in the room changed. I sat on the edge of the bed, staring at her phone in my hand, trying not to jump to conclusions… trying to find another explanation.
A client? A coworker? A cousin? But deep down… I already knew what it looked like and what it meant.
I looked back at my wife. The same woman who had just told me she loved me under running water, but all I could see was red.
I reached over, shaking her shoulder.
“Khloe.”
She stirred slightly.
“Khloe.”
Her eyes fluttered open, confused.
“Hmm?”
I held up the phone.
My voice came out louder than I intended. “Who the fuck is Stacks?”
