Then I deleted every one.
I said, “Okay.”
My phone filled with messages from Evan and Clara. I read the previews. Apologies. Explanations. Requests to talk. Claims that it was complicated.
Then I deleted every one.
They were not getting one more piece of me for free.
Not because I was healed. Not because I was calm. Because I already knew enough.
They had taken my trust, my marriage, and the version of family I thought I had.
They were not getting one more piece of me for free.
And for the first time since I picked up the wrong phone, I could breathe.
