Cicada Song
As soon as the news about the divorce went out, I got the expected call from my husband Oliver Hughes, demanding an explanation.
“Reese Webb, can you stop being so ridiculous? Are you really this petty? You want to keep me chained to your side for the rest of your life?”
Before I could answer, he unleashed a torrent of frustration. “I already told you, Faith’s cat was having a difficult birth. That cat is her everything! We’re talking about saving a litter of kittens here. Do you have any compassion at all?”
“You have no sense of priorities! Did you really have to pick now, of all times, to be so jealous?”
Hearing his ice-cold tone, I let out a bitter laugh.
My husband, Oliver, after ghosting me for a week, had finally deigned to give me a call.
Never mind that last night, when I was pregnant and fell down the stairs, I had called him eighteen times while writhing in pain.
He’d mercilessly declined every single one.
The only response he’d spared me was a three-word text: “Busy, what’s up?”
I sent him a tearful voice message, my trembling voice crying out, “Honey, I’m pregnant! I wasn’t feeling well and I fell down the stairs… My stomach hurts so much, and I’m bleeding a lot. What do I do? Are we going to lose our baby?”
Oliver never even listened to it. He just replied impatiently—
“Can’t you handle things at home yourself? Why do you always have to call me?”
“I’m at Faith’s place helping her cat give birth. What could possibly be more important than saving those little lives?”
Oliver rarely listened to my voice messages, and he couldn’t be bothered to read my texts.
He could patiently listen to his precious Faith cry and complain about her period cramps for hours on end.
But when I, someone with severe claustrophobia since childhood, got trapped in an elevator for two hours, calling him was considered an interruption.
*Right. How could I ever hope to compare to Faith Walker?*
Oliver once told me I wasn’t even worth a single strand of her hair.
So, of course, our child was less important than the kitten Faith doted on.
My best friend snatched the phone from my hand and started yelling at Oliver on the other end—
“Oliver Hughes! Reese had a fall last night and lost the baby! If you’re even a halfway decent human being, you’ll get your ass over to this hospital right now and see her!”