Page 97 of One Little Mistake

Still, I try to shake the tension, distract myself by thinking about what to make for dinner. An hour passes. Then another. Then three. Max still hasn’t called. I finally cave and text him first—no reply. It’s already getting dark, and the pie I baked has long since gone cold, and Max still isn’t home.

I keep telling myself to calm down, to just be patient and wait. But I can’t. My stomach is in knots.

Finally, around ten at night, my phone rings. I snatch it up without hesitation.

“Hello? Max?”

“Hey... did you miss me?” His voice is quiet and tired. I press the phone tighter to my ear, afraid to miss a single word.

“Where are you? Are you close? Are you coming home soon?” I ask anxiously.

There’s a long pause. He exhales heavily.

“Erin... I’m shipping out.”

“What? What do you mean? When?” I cry out, panic rising in my throat.

“Tomorrow morning.”

“So soon? Why didn’t you tell me this morning?” My voice cracks. My chest tightens. Bitterness and disappointment fill me. Why now? Why when things were finally going right?

“I didn’t know,” he says softly. “Didn’t think it would happen this fast. They needed someone right away. Listen, Erin—this contract’s three months on, three off. Not six or nine like before. You won’t even have time to miss me before I’m back. And I need this. I want to work a few more years, save up, open a business—so you and Tim will have everything you need. So I can stay with you year-round.”

“I already have everything I need. I just… I don’t want you to leave. Not now.”

My voice comes out small, a little whiny, and I can’t stop the trembling in it—or the quiet sniffles.

“You’ll wait for me, right?”

“Of course I will. Why would you even ask that? What time’s your flight? Will I see you before you go?”

“Seven a.m. I’m packing now, picking up a few things I’ll need. As much as I want to come see you, there’s just no time to make it there and back. The company delayed signing the contract, and I had to wait until HQ sent it back. I’m sorry. I feel like crap, too, if that helps at all.”

“No, I just… It’s all so sudden. But I mean, it’s only three months, right?”

“Right. Listen, I’m leaving my keys with the front desk. I’ll tell the concierge to expect you—go pick them up when you get back. I want you to come home. Both of you. I want to know that someone’s waiting for me. I didn’t touch the nursery. The crib will need to be moved back again, but I’m sure Logan will help. I’m also leaving some cash in the kitchen cabinet. Use it for Tim. Don’t worry about work, just focus on him.”

“Max?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re real, right?”

“Of course I am, baby. Just give Tim a kiss from me and don’t cry.”

“I will. I promise.”

“I’ve gotta go. I’ll call you again before I take off.”

“Maybe I can make it to the airport in time? Say goodbye in person?” I ask, even though I already know he’ll say no. My mind’s racing, plotting ways I could make it into the city.

“No. Don’t, okay? I’ll just worry the whole time. It’s the middle of the night—who would even drive you?”

“I’ll figure something out.”

“Erin. Don’t be reckless, please. Just get some sleep and stop overthinking everything.”

His tone shifts—firm now, no room for arguing.

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