PAGE 2 — THE PROMISE I SHOULD HAVE BROKEN
The next morning, I left before sunrise.
Emily stood at the front door holding Noah.
She looked tired, but she smiled.
“Drive carefully.”
I hugged her.
“Call me if you need anything.”
“I will.”
I kissed Noah’s forehead.
Then I looked at my mother.
“Please.”
She nodded.
“I promise.”
I looked at Ashley.
“Both of you.”
Ashley rolled her eyes playfully.
“Ethan, go.”
She smiled.
“We’ve got this.”
Those words followed me all the way to Dayton.
We had this.
I repeated them whenever guilt started creeping into my mind.
At the branch, things were worse than my manager had described.
Several inventory records didn’t match.
Invoices were missing.
A supplier claimed someone had approved an unauthorized shipment.
And worse, there were forms with a digital version of my signature attached.
I spent twelve-hour days trying to untangle everything.
But I called home constantly.
Every morning.
Every afternoon.
Every night.
The first day, Emily answered.
“Hi.”
Her voice sounded weak.
“How are you feeling?”
“Okay.”
“Are you eating?”
“A little.”
“Drinking water?”
She paused.
“Yes.”
I smiled.
“Good.”
I could hear Noah crying.
“Is that him?”
“Yes.”
“Can I see him?”
Emily turned the camera.
There was my son.
Tiny.
Red-faced.
Crying.
I smiled.
“Hey, buddy.”
Emily smiled too.
Then my mother appeared behind her.
“That’s enough.”
I frowned.
“What?”
“She needs to rest.”
Mom took the phone.
“Goodnight, Ethan.”
“Mom, I just wanted to talk to Emily.”
“She’s exhausted.”
The call ended.
I stared at my screen.
Something about it bothered me.
But I convinced myself I was being paranoid.
The second day was worse.
Emily didn’t answer at all.
My mother did.
“How is she?”
“Sleeping.”
“Can I talk to her?”
“No.”
“Mom…”
“Ethan, she needs sleep.”
I rubbed my forehead.
“Is she eating?”
“Of course.”
“Can you put some food beside her?”
“I know how to take care of your wife.”
Her tone irritated me.
“I didn’t mean—”
“I raised you.”
“I know.”
“Then trust me.”
The call ended.
That night I barely slept.
The next morning, I called again.
Ashley answered.
“Hey.”
“Where’s Emily?”
“Sleeping.”
“Again?”
“She had a rough night.”
I sat up.
“What happened?”
“Nothing serious.”
“What does that mean?”
Ashley sighed.
“Ethan, you’re hundreds of miles away. Stop worrying about every little thing.”
Then I heard Noah crying.
My entire body stiffened.
“Is that Noah?”
“Yes.”
“Why does he sound like that?”
“He’s hungry.”
“Then feed him.”
“We already did.”
The crying continued.
I stood up.
“Put Emily on.”
“She’s asleep.”
“Wake her.”
“Why?”
“Because I want to hear her voice.”
Ashley became quiet.
Then she said:
“You are being dramatic.”
The call ended.
I stared at the phone.
For the first time, I considered leaving work immediately.
But the branch manager walked into my hotel room later that afternoon with a stack of documents.
“We’re almost done.”
Almost done.
I thought about my wife.
I thought about Noah.
Then I told myself I’d finish the job and drive home the next morning.
That was my second mistake.
Because that night, I received a text from Emily.
It contained only four words.
I need you home.
I immediately called her.
No answer.
I called again.
Nothing.
Then my mother called me.
“Ethan?”
“Where is Emily?”
“She’s asleep.”
“She just texted me.”
Mom paused.
“What did she say?”
“She said she needs me.”
Another pause.
Then Mom said:
“She’s emotional.”
I felt my stomach drop.
“Put her on the phone.”
“She can’t.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s sleeping.”
I hung up.
I stared at the clock.
Then I grabbed my keys.
I was going home.
I didn’t care about the paperwork anymore.
I didn’t care about the company.
I didn’t care what my manager said.
Something was wrong.
