A Call From My Future Self
Language: en
The day after I gave birth, I tried to call my old number—a lingering habit from before my life fell apart. Instead of a busy signal, the call went through, and the woman who answered was me. Me, three years in the future. I held up my newborn, my heart swollen with a mother's fresh, fragile joy. "How is she in three years?" I asked, my voice a breathless whisper. "Is she sweet? Is she beautiful? And..." I felt a blush creep up my neck. "Are Gordon and I... are we incredibly happy?" The version of me on the screen stared back. The look in her eyes was so thick with longing it nearly broke…