100 Unanswered Calls

Elliot's POV

The first thing I did after leaving the hospital was walk into a phone store and get a new SIM card.

I kept my old number active in a spare phone. It was useful for the occasional verification code. Mostly, though, I wanted to see how long it would take Sloane Marlowe to realize she'd lost me.

She didn't notice right away.

Of course she didn't. She was busy.

Busy escorting Tristan Bellamy to industry launches. Busy introducing him to people who could help his career. Busy playing the part of the endlessly dependable Sloane, the woman who would drop anything for him.

I knew all this thanks to Tristan's social media.

He seemed to enjoy documenting every favor she did him. Every carefully framed photo and smug caption delivered the same message: he mattered to her in a way no one else did.

Meanwhile, I packed my things, called a moving company, and started applying for jobs.

A lot of jobs.

Three years ago, when Sloane's career began taking off, I'd walked away from a promising position in design so I could look after our home and take care of her. I'd willingly made myself the stay-at-home partner she needed.

I wasn't going to be that man anymore.

I wanted my career back. I wanted myself back.

A week later, Sloane returned from an out-of-town business trip. She dropped her suitcase by the front door and called out without even looking for me.

"Eli, I'm starving. Make me some pasta."

She sounded tired from the trip. Mostly, she sounded certain I'd do exactly what she asked.

I came out of the study with an interview-preparation book in my hand.

"There are plenty of delivery apps," I said. "Or you could make something yourself."

She stared at me.

For the first time in years, I hadn't hurried into the kitchen the second she said she was hungry.

Her surprise hardened into a frown.

"What's wrong with you? Did somebody upset you?"