It was still on the floor, where I’d thrown it after Carol’s call the day before. I’d picked it up and set it on the table without even looking at it. Now it was buzzing against the wood.
MARK.
I stared at his name on the screen.
He never called me from work. Never. He texted at lunch. Sometimes. But he didn’t call. The job sites were too loud.
I picked up.
“Mark?”
Silence. I could hear wind. Traffic. A loud truck going by.
“Mark? Honey?”
“Lee.” His voice was strange. Small. “Lee, is that you?”
“It’s me. Where are you? What’s wrong?”
“I don’t…” He stopped. I heard him breathing fast. “I don’t know where I am.”
The coffee cup slid out of my hand and tipped over. Coffee ran across the table and dripped onto the floor. I didn’t move.
