Ring, ring.

Ressler snatched up his phone. “Agent Donald Ressler. Who’s this?”

“Hey... it’s me,” you said quietly.

His voice softened immediately. “My love. How are you?”

You hesitated. “I’m... okay. But, Donald... I don’t think we should keep doing this.”

He froze. “What? What are you saying?”

“I think we should end things,” you said, voice shaking. “I’m sorry... I just—”

“You’re breaking up with me? Over the phone?” he cut in, disbelief bleeding into anger. “Are you serious right now?”

“I’m so sorry,” you whispered, barely able to speak past the lump in your throat.

Then, before he could say anything else, you hung up.

And the tears came hard and fast, leaving you breathless on the other end of the line.