Betty stared at the ringing phone like it was an accusation.
His name dragging old memories up from places she’d spent years burying. She let it ring longer than necessary, her jaw tightening, chest rising with a slow and controlled breath. Then she answered.
“What do you want?” Her voice came out flat, stripped of courtesy.
There was a pause on the other end, as if he hadn’t expected her to sound so unmoved.
“Betty,” Francis said, warm, careful. “I was just calling to check on you. See how you’re doing.”
She let out a humorless laugh. “Cut the crap, Francis.”
Another pause. Longer this time. She could picture him now still thinking charm could soften anything, still believing proximity meant permission.
“I miss you,” he said finally. “I’ve missed you for a long time. I want us back
