One Missed Call Killed Our Baby

I was burning up with fever when Andrew called, asking me to pick up Matthew from the train station.

"Something urgent came up," he said.

Something urgent? My heart thudded, a mix of fear and fury. What the hell could be more urgent than our son?

But I didn't argue. I never do anymore. What's the point? I just swallowed the rage and dragged myself out the door.

By the time I got to the station, my head was pounding and my mind was racing. There were flashing lights, police cars, ambulances. My stomach dropped. I panicked.

I searched frantically through the crowd, my pulse pounding in my ears, until I saw him.

Matthew.

Lying on the ground, still as stone.

"Matthew!" I screamed, running to him, clutching his bloody body. My baby, my baby, gone in a heartbeat.

And then my phone buzzed.

Claire.

Andrew's first love. She'd posted a picture of the two of them grinning like high school sweethearts, not a care in the world.

How dare they?

Hands shaking, I took a screenshot and sent it to Andrew.

[Is this why you left Matthew by himself?]

No reply.

Coward.

I cremated Matthew alone. Held the burial alone. Where was Andrew?

Probably still tangled in bed with Claire.

Sure enough, days later, he finally texted.

[Matthew's not a baby anymore, Emily. He can take care of himself. Claire needs me.]

Unbelievable.

[Let's divorce then,] I replied, not a shred of regret in my chest. Good riddance to thirty wasted years.

Andrew used to be my whole world. We grew up together, went to school together. I was that pathetic girl trailing behind him like a lost puppy. Always cheering him on, even when he was with Claire.

I don't even know when I fell in love with him. Maybe it was always there. A slow, steady burn that turned into a wildfire. When Claire left, I finally confessed. We got married. Had Matthew. And for a while, I tricked myself into thinking it was enough.

But I was wrong. I was just second place. The girl he settled for because she was conveniently close. Not because he ever truly wanted me.

And maybe… that's on me. I should've left back then. But no, this dumb girl chose to be even dumber.

Well, not anymore.

I stood by my son's grave, tears long gone. I had trusted his father with him just once, and look what happened. I can't even imagine how scared Matthew must've been, dying all alone.

He was just a kid. He deserved so much more.

As I stood up, vowing to move on, I saw them, Andrew and Claire, walking toward me. Claire had an urn in her hands. Her face looked pale, worn-out.

What the hell is this?

Andrew's expression, pitying. Tender, even.

I almost laughed. Since when did this asshole grow a heart?

Oh, right. Claire's around. She's the magic switch.

"Babe, this cemetery's so pretty! Look at all the flowers! Milo would've loved it, right?" Claire said, her voice sugary-sweet and fragile.

Milo?

Wasn't that her dog?