"Les, my grandmother is in the ICU—"
He grabbed my wrist before I could finish. Wrapped his hand around my fingers and pried them open.
He was so much stronger than me.
I gripped the phone until my nails dug into my own palm.
"Les!"
He pried it free.
He turned and handed the phone to Lila.
Lila took it, tears still wet on her face, and bent her head to type.
I stood there.
Grandma Marianne's voice still echoed in my ears—that last, tentative "Hope?"
I wanted to grab it back.
Les stepped in front of me, his face hard with irritation. "One minute. You can't give her one minute?"
I looked into his eyes.
Those eyes used to be gentle when they looked at me.
Now there was nothing in them at all.
Lila finished and handed the phone back.
I looked down.
The screen was open to Lila's Instagram.
She had just posted.
The photo was of her and Les at the gas station.
His arm around her waist, her head on his shoulder.
The caption: Happy Labor Day weekend~ out with my husband, couldn't be happier ♡
I stared at that line.
My phone.
Her and my husband.
While my grandmother's last call was still on the line.
I looked up at Les.