“What are your plans for Thursday?”, the same phone call every year.
As if he might not remember what day it was or forgotten their conversation about priorities, he clearly wasn’t one of hers. He had been cast aside. Left in need to satisfy the wants of other people.
Now those wretches surround her.
Each year feeling guilty, alone, and used, she called with the expectation, he would come sit at their table for scraps of feigned affection for the sake of tradition, and her absolution.
Once again he declined the invitation.
The phone would remain silent for another year.