He didn’t.
By noon, my messages were unread.
By evening, his phone went straight to voicemail.
The next morning, I drove to his apartment.
Half his closet was empty.
I stopped waiting sometime around my fifth month.
That was when fear became something worse.
Caleb hadn’t gotten overwhelmed and forgotten to call.
He had gone somewhere on purpose.
I stopped waiting sometime around my fifth month, when Grandpa Walter finished sanding the crib in his garage and told me we would be fine, just the three of us.
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