By Michael Clark • February 28, 2026 • Share
When I got home, the house was silent.
No music. No humming from the kitchen. Just the faint tick of the clock and the soft buzz of the refrigerator.
The cake sat on the counter, unfinished, with dark frosting smeared across the bowl like someone had stopped mid-breath. The knife leaned against the edge of the tub, and a balloon bobbed near the ceiling, its string tangled around a cabinet handle.
When I got home, the house was silent.
“Jess?” I called, louder than I meant to.
Nothing.
Our bedroom door was open. I walked in and stopped; Jess’s side of the closet was bare. The hangers, the floral ones she insisted on, swayed slightly as if recently disturbed. Her suitcase was gone, and so were most of her shoes.
Jess’s side of the closet was bare.
I barely kept myself upright as I limped down the hallway. Evie was asleep in her crib, her mouth open, with one hand resting on the duck’s head.
“What the actual heck is this, Jess?” I mumbled as I gently shook Evie awake.
My stomach knotted.
“What the actual heck is this, Jess?”
Folded beside her was a note in Jess’s handwriting.
“Callum,
I’m sorry. I can’t stay anymore.
Take care of our Evie. I made a promise to your mom, and I had to stick to it. Ask her.
-J.”
“I’m sorry. I can’t stay anymore.”
There had been music playing when I left.
Jess had her hair pinned up, a smear of chocolate frosting across her cheek as she stood in the kitchen, humming off-key to a song on the radio. She was icing Evie’s birthday cake, dark, messy, and beautiful, just like our daughter had asked for.
“Don’t forget, Callum,” she called over her shoulder. “She wants the one with the glittery wings.”
There had been music playing…
“Already on it,” I said, pausing in the doorway. “One doll, giant, hideous, and sparkly. I’ve got it covered.”
Jess laughed, but it didn’t reach her eyes.
Evie sat at the table with her duck in one hand and a crayon in the other, humming along with her mom. She looked up at me, cocked her head, and beamed.
“One doll, giant, hideous, and sparkly. I’ve got it covered.”
“Daddy, make sure she has real wings!”
“I wouldn’t dare disappoint you, baby girl,” I said, tapping my leg to wake up the nerve endings before moving toward the door. “I’ll be back soon.”
It felt normal and familiar, ordinary in the way good things often are right before they fall apart.
“I’ll be back soon.”
Read more on the next page ⬇️⬇️⬇️
