The Message Meant for My Husband

Chapter 1: Love You, Dad.

The message was only three words long.

I love you.

I typed it while standing at the kitchen counter, waiting for the kettle to boil. Morning light pressed through the blinds in thin gold lines, falling across an open jar of coffee, two slices of bread, and the grocery list I had forgotten to take with me the day before.

My husband had left early for work. Before walking out, he had kissed the top of my head and reminded me that the car was nearly out of fuel. I had answered without looking up from my phone, distracted by an email and the low hum of everything that needed to be done.

By nine o’clock, I felt guilty about how rushed our morning had been. So I opened my messages, tapped his name, and wrote the words I should have said before he left.

I love you.

Then I set my phone beside the sink and poured hot water into my mug.

It should have been an ordinary message on an ordinary morning.

Instead, a few minutes later, my phone buzzed.

I picked it up, expecting a heart emoji from my husband or perhaps a joke about finally being appreciated. But the name at the top of the screen made me stop.