That evening he was supposedly in Hong Kong for a business conference he never spoke about in much detail. He always promised souvenirs and affectionate apologies when he returned.
Despite my exhaustion, I picked up my phone and sent him a message that now feels painfully naïve.
Take care. I miss you.
The message delivered immediately.
No reply came.
The silence felt heavier than it should have between two people who shared a marriage.
To distract myself, I opened Instagram and began scrolling mindlessly.
The very first post shattered everything.
It was a wedding photo.
