Lewis’ contact is the first on the list, being the only call I missed.
Lewis with a white heart, while Alexander—the man I’m marrying—is down the list with a ‘T’ in front of his name. T for Thorne. Nothing special.
His left hand strokes my arm, a reminder that he’s watching. And waiting.
I tap the screen and click on ‘block contact’. I delete afterward.
My head turns to meet his eyes. The look in them is one of dissatisfaction. Yet they remain calm.
He blinks, staring intently into my eyes.
It feels like he expects me to read his mind.
My chest tightens.
And it comes to me.
I turn my head again, opening the chatting app.
I type his name in the search bar. The last time I texted Lewis was in February, to congratulate him after he got engaged. He responded with a ‘Thanks.’
I long
