The 13th Call to My Husband at the Crematorium novel Chapter 6

"Your parents were so kind, how could they just be taken like that?"

Caleb's lips trembled when he heard this, as though he was forcing a smile:

"No, no, this can't be. When I left, Mr. Blake was fine."

"How could he suddenly pass away?"

"Uncle and Aunt, are you in on this too? Is this some kind of act?"

Mr. Aiden, shocked by Caleb's wild reaction, said:

"Caleb, how could you not know your dad passed away?"

Caleb stared at me blankly, his eyes hollow:

"No one told me."

I walked up to him, my eyes full of tears, the handprint from his slap still red on my face.

"Caleb, don't you feel any guilt saying that?"

Caleb's eyes wandered, clearly uncomfortable under my gaze.

He stepped back, bumping into the shoe rack to stop himself.

I ignored him and turned to Mr. and Mrs. Aiden:

"Mr. and Mrs. Aiden, let me take you to see my parents."

…

At the cemetery, Mr. and Mrs. Aiden were crying uncontrollably.

I had no more tears left, just a bitter, aching heart.

Caleb had already fallen to his knees in front of the grave.

The usually tidy and composed Caleb Hayes was now sobbing, looking like a lost child.

Maybe I should feel some relief—at least Caleb's respect for his father was sincere.

But my parents' efforts were not in vain.

Caleb wasn't a heartless ingrate, after all.

"She said you were busy cutting fruit for her."

"I knew you'd deleted me from IG, but I still sent you countless messages, hoping you'd see them."

"If you cared even a little, you would've seen the messages."

"Caleb, what more could I have done to get through to you?"

Caleb, with disbelief written all over his face, pulled out his phone in a panic.

He quickly checked the call log, his eyes stopping on the missed calls from three days ago.

He opened IG, scrolling through three times, but couldn't find my messages.

"If you weren't so heartless, you wouldn't have missed these calls."

After hearing this, Caleb collapsed into further tears, breaking down in front of the grave, filled with guilt.

And as I watched him, I felt my body grow weak, the ache in my heart intensifying.

That fresh wound was ripped open again, and I was forced to relive that helpless pain.