The soft chime of Isabelle’s phone broke the peaceful rhythm of the afternoon, the sound slicing through the quiet like a whisper of something she wasn’t quite ready to face. She glanced at the screen, Marcus’s name lighting up the display.
Her stomach dipped. She hesitated, thumb hovering over the screen — because she already knew whatever this call was, it would complicate things. Everything had been complicated lately.
But she answered anyway.
“Hey, Marcus.”
“Hey, you,” his voice was warm and easy, the kind of voice that always seemed to carry a smile. “I was wondering… what are you and the kids doing this weekend?”
Isabelle’s brow furrowed. “Why?”
“There’s this family-friendly charity event — games, face painting, the works,” he explained. “I thought maybe you and the twins might
