When My Husband Pocket-Dialed Me

she whispered.

I looked over her shoulder at the bright North Carolina morning.

“Love you too,” I said.

She walked toward the corner.

I stayed near my car.

Less than a minute later, Mark’s black SUV pulled up to the curb. Lydia glanced around before opening the passenger door, but she did not see me standing partly behind a magnolia tree.

Mark leaned over continue reading …