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The tinny jingle of Alexandra’s phone sliced through the warm ambiance of Cracker Barrel, where the scent of buttered biscuits and fried chicken mingled with the laughter of families and clinking of cutlery. She hesitated, the worn wooden handle of the salt shaker mid-air, as she fished the vibrating device from her purse. The name flashing on the screen momentarily stilled her world—Jeremy.

With a roll of her eyes that betrayed her inner turmoil, she shoved the phone away, hoping to bury the wave of frustration that surged within her. Alicia, who had been enthusiastically describing her latest foray into pottery, caught the tail end of Alexandra's reaction.

Alicia, busy attacking her chicken with gusto, caught the tail end of Alexandra's eye roll. "Who's that?" she asked, her voice laced with a mixture of concern and curiosity.

"Oh, it's no one of consequence," Alexandra replied, hoping the strained smile she offered would serve as a convincing mask. She focused on neatly cutting a p
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