The Truth

“I’m getting married,” Anderson said.

This is it, Mary thought, he’s finally proposing to me. She laughed inwardly. Over the phone. What a doofus. “You can’t ask the question like a normal person, can you? You have to state it,” she teased.

His voice hitched. “I’m getting married on Thursday. I can’t see you anymore.”

The addendum slapped the smile off her face. “What?”

“I’m breaking up with you.”

“What?”

“So this is good-bye.”

“Wait, Anderson, what—”

“Good-bye.”

He hung up. The cordless phone dropped from her hand and clattered on the floor, sending its batteries rolling, irretrievable.