She shakes her head.
“I called you six years ago.” My thumb brushes over her knuckles. “It was the night before the wedding.”
I pause, feeling it all press back in.
“It was after midnight. I’d had too many glasses of whiskey.” I smile. “And I dialed your number.”
I let out a slow breath. “Part of me hoped you wouldn’t answer.”
My eyes soften as I look at her. “But you did.”
I close my eyes, and the memory slips in like it never left.
It was early September of 1987.
She answered on the second ring. “Hello.”
“Hey,” I said. “Can you talk?”
A soft breath slipped through the line, almost like a smile. “With you, always.”
I closed my eyes, pressing my fingers against my temple. “I… I’m having second thoughts.”
Silence filled the space between us, broken only by the quiet hum of the line.
“She’s… she’s like a mother to Helena. She’s been here for me,” I said, slower now. “But I need to know if there’s a reason I shouldn’t marry her.”
She’s silent again.
“Only one reason I can think of.” She paused. “If you love someone else.”
“I do.”
Another silence, heavier this time.
“Did you tell her?” She asked, her voice softer.
“I couldn’t. She’s in love with someone else.”
A quiet inhale.
“Well… if you love her,” she said, slower now, “maybe you could wait. Maybe she’s having second thoughts too.”
“What are the chances, Kitten? How long do I wait for someone who can’t love me back?”
She didn’t answer right away. I heard the broken cry she tried to hide.
“Yeah… yeah, you’re right,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “You should marry Lilibeth.”
Her words broke me in half.
“Yeah,” I said, the glass pausing at my lips before I took another sip of whiskey. It burned on the way down. “I should.”
“Nathaniel.”
“Yeah?” My voice came out rough.
A breath trembled through the line. “Would you make a different decision if I hadn’t answered the phone?”
