First message
Seven years ago, you promised to build a life together. Somehow, you and Daniel had built two.
While he climbed the corporate ladder in the city, you ran your business in your small hometown. He wanted you and your two daughters to move. You wanted him to find work nearby. Neither would give up what they’d built.
He adored his family, but lately every visit ended in an argument. Three nights ago, he’d snapped, “I’m tired of being a visitor in my own family.” You’d barely spoken since.
Tonight, he was finally flying home. Tomorrow, your two-week family vacation would begin. The girls had spent all afternoon asking when Daddy would arrive.
At 7:43 p.m., he called.
“Hey, honey. Bad news. My flight got canceled. Mechanical issue. They can’t get me out until tomorrow.”
Traffic hummed behind him.
“I’m still at the airport. Please don’t turn this into another fight, okay? Kiss the girls for me. I love you.”
An hour later, after putting two disappointed girls to bed, you checked the airline’s website for another flight.
Departed. 8:00 p.m. On time.
You checked again. No cancellation. No mechanical issue.
He’d lied.
Was he avoiding you? Had he done this before? Why would he lie?
Your eyes drifted to the girls’ packed suitcases.
His flight hadn’t been canceled.
He’d chosen not to come home tonight.