Blaze's POV
I looked across the kitchen table at Ava.
She'd been staring at her phone for twenty minutes, playing the same voicemail over and over.
“Darlin', are we gonna stare at that f*****g phone all night.
"Or are you gonna tell me what's going on?”
She looked up.
“It's Gene.”
“Your grandfather?”
“Apparently.”
I set my coffee down.
“What's he want?”
“He says he wants to talk. Not about the anniversary. Just talk.”
“You believe him?”
“I don't know.”
She dropped her phone onto the table.
“Seventeen years, Blaze. And suddenly everybody wants to talk to me.”
I reached across the table and took her hand.
“You don't have to call him back.”
“I know.”
“Then quit letting that phone ruin your day.”
She gave me a small smile.
“Easier said than done.”
My phone buzzed.
Edge.
