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Then I called Michael. Again and again. He didn't pick up.
On the fifteenth attempt, he finally answered.
"Amanda's son is still in the hospital. He needs someone right now. Can you stop being so immature?"
Even now, he thought I was calling him out of jealousy?
My voice was as cold as liquid nitrogen.
"Michael.
Come home. We're getting a divorce."
The voice on the other end was dripping with impatience.
"I told you to stop acting out! Why are you being so unreasonable lately!
"Don't you know Lucas has a congenital heart defect? If it weren't for you, he wouldn't have been hurt this badly!
"Amanda is a single mother.
What is wrong with me helping her out?
This is a life-or-death situation.
Stop being so petty!
"
He hung up on me.
I called back. Straight to voicemail. He had blocked my number.
This was his standard tactic.
Every time he used his limited vacation days to take care of Amanda and her son, I would blow up his phone.
He was used to blocking me when I "threw a tantrum," waiting until he was done playing house with them, and then unblocking me as if nothing had happened.
But this time, I wasn't going to have a big fight and then pretend everything was fine.
