“John,” I said quietly, my voice cracking under the weight of everything left unsaid.
“I…” he began, his tone low and uncertain—only for his phone to erupt with a shrill ringtone that made my stomach twist.
That ringtone. Susan’s ringtone. She had set it herself, smugly marking her territory on his phone.
John’s eyes darted away from mine, his whole body shifting with guilt. He didn’t finish his sentence, didn’t fight for me, didn’t even try. He just answered.
“John,” Susan’s voice broke through the speaker, trembling and tearful. “It’s Lily… she’s hurt. What do I do?”
Lily. The damn stray mutt they’d picked up together, a dog she paraded around like proof of their little bond. Every time John and I were alone for too long, Susan would suddenly “need him” because of Lily. Always Lily.
