When I reactivated my phone, Mom’s first voicemail demanded, “How could you do this to us, Natalie, after everything we’ve done for you?”
I listened twice, searching my memory for the last time she’d asked whether I was sleeping, eating, or healing. I couldn’t recall one. But she’d found the wedding invoice immediately.
I was still healing physically after childbirth. Some mornings, I awakened expecting Rosie to move inside me before reality returned. All I wanted was space to grieve with Owen, yet every message suggested my sorrow was interfering with their plans.
By Monday, Kelsey had sent seventeen messages, mostly describing how difficult wedding planning had become. The final message read, “You’re ruining my wedding because you’re jealous. I still have something to celebrate.”
Me quedé mirando hasta que las letras se difuminaron. Owen tomó mi teléfono con cuidado. “No tienes que seguir leyéndolos”, me dijo.