Amber
Since the day we exchanged contacts after the first hearing, Rayne had been calling almost every night—without fail. Not for me. For Evalie.
Every evening, like clockwork, he’d call after dinner, and Evalie would squeal and rush for my phone with a grin that stretched wide across her tiny face. “Daddy’s calling!” she’d shout, bouncing on her toes, green eyes sparkling as if Christmas had come early. Then she’d settle on the couch or her bed and talk his ears off, telling him everything she did that day, no matter how small.
At first, I kept my distance during these calls, lingering in the background, half-listening, half-tuning them out. I told myself it was just temporary. That he was probably doing this to earn points for the custody battle.
But deep down, I knew better.
Rayne
