Amelia snapped out of her thoughts, dried off, and walked back into the room.
Simon's phone was buzzing nonstop on the table.
That constant ding-ding was clearly someone blowing up his messages.
He glanced over, looking slightly annoyed, then tapped to call back.
"Just get her home," he said.
On the other end, Anselme sounded kind of hard to read. "Simon, Vivian's totally drunk. She keeps calling your name, saying you don't love her anymore. Did you guys have a fight or what?"
Simon lit a cigarette, took a drag, and exhaled slow. "No."
Vivian had always been dramatic and a little spoiled.
She thrived on him coaxing her, so these little tantrums weren't anything new.
Today was no different.
She clearly wasn't happy when he left earlier, but he came back anywa
