Every Unanswered Text Broke My Love Little by Little

My husband was the communications officer on an ocean research vessel.

And somehow, I could never reach him.

Every time he went to sea, he told me the signal was unstable out there. Getting one reply every three to five days was normal.

I believed him for two whole years.

Until his ex-girlfriend, Isla Brooks, posted screenshot after screenshot of their video calls.

In one month, she and Grant Mercer had called thirty-one times.

The shortest call was forty minutes.

The image was so clear I could see the deck behind him, and the stars hanging over the ocean.

I opened our chat history.

The longest he had ever taken to reply to me was fourteen days.

His answer had been two words.

Yeah, okay.

After that, I learned.

I stopped sitting up at night, staring at my phone, waiting for the screen to light up.

I stopped sending paragraphs about how much I missed him.

My messages shrank from three lines to one sentence.

Stay safe.

Then two words.

Be safe.

Later, just a period.

In the end, not even that.

When he docked again and came home, he frowned and asked me, Why havent you been messaging me lately?

I smiled.

In three days, our divorce hearing would put a final period on this marriage.

And he still had no idea.

Grant stood in the entryway, his duffel still in one hand.

Once, I would have changed the sheets ahead of time, waited at the pier, and even placed his slippers facing outward so he could step into them the moment he came home.

Today, I sat at the dining table organizing documents.

He looked at the thick stack of papers in front of me and frowned.

Nora. I asked you a question.

I pressed the stapler down. The click sounded light in the quiet room.

How long are you staying this time?

The question caught him off guard. His tone softened a little.

A week. Im back on board next week. Tomorrow night, the crews holding a welcome-back dinner.

For the past two years, every time he docked, he said he was exhausted and fell asleep as soon as he got home.

But on Islas social media, he had energy to walk along the harbor with her, help her choose filming equipment, and stay on calls with her until dawn.

I lowered my head and kept sorting the papers.

Grant placed a gift box on the table.

For you. I was at sea on our anniversary last time, so this is to make up for it.

My fingers paused.

Inside the box was a shell bracelet.

The edges of the shells were rough, and the tag still hung from it.

Harbor Gift Shop. Clearance Sale.

Before I could speak, my phone vibrated.

Isla had posted.

In the photo, she stood at the pier, a strand of deep-blue sea pearls around her neck.

At the corner of the frame was half of Grants sleeve.

The caption read:

Someone remembered Im afraid of the dark, so he gave me a piece of the sea.

I pushed my phone toward Grant.

He glanced at it. His expression changed slightly, then quickly returned to normal.

She needed that pearl necklace for her documentary shoot. She borrowed it temporarily. Yours is more everyday. It suits you.

I nodded.

Isla suits deep-sea pearls. I suit clearance shells.

He seemed unused to this version of me.

Just as he was about to speak, his phone rang with a video call.

The name on the screen was Isla.

Grant answered almost by reflex.

On camera, Isla wore a black windbreaker.

I recognized it.

Grant had bought it before going to sea last year, saying it blocked wind well and was essential on the ship.

Her voice was hoarse.

Grant, I think I have a fever. The hotel pharmacy is closed. Im alone here and kind of scared.

Grant looked at me.

In that one glance, there was hesitation.

And the apology of someone who had already chosen.

Nora, she just arrived at the port. She doesnt know anyone here. Ill take her some medicine and come right back.

I watched him pick up his car keys.

You just got home. We havent seen each other in a long time.

He frowned.

Dont be like this. Shes sick.

After the door closed, the apartment fell silent.

I sat at the table, placed the shell bracelet into an evidence bag, and labeled it.

Anniversary gift discrepancy.

Then I messaged my lawyer, Bennett Cole.

Add one more item.

Bennett replied quickly.

Received.

Half an hour later, Isla sent me a photo.

Medicine. Hot water. Grants hand.

Nora, you dont mind, right?

I replied:

I dont mind.

After sending it, I plugged in my voice recorder to charge.

The next evening, Grant sent me a location.

Crew dinner at seven. Dont be late. My supervisors and colleagues will be there. Save me some face.

I looked at the message and put the recorder into my bag.

The welcome-back dinner was held at a hotel near the port.

When I arrived at the private room, it was already full.

Grant wore his uniform. Isla sat beside him, draped in his team jacket, a communications badge pinned to her chest.

I had seen that badge before.

Before he sailed, I once asked if he could leave me one as a keepsake.

He said ship equipment was regulated. Family members couldnt take it.

Now it hung on Islas chest like a silently recognized identity.

Grant saw me and pointed to the seat near the door.

Sit over there. The main table is for crew members. Its inconvenient for you to sit here.

Isla looked up and smiled.

Noras here. Grant, why dont you let her sit beside you? I can move.

That was what she said.

But she made no move to stand.

Grant lowered his voice.

Dont make a fuss. Its the same wherever she sits.

I sat near the door and turned on the recorder inside my bag.

Not long after the dinner began, people started teasing them.

Isla and Grant are such a perfect team. One films the sea, the other connects the sea.

When you two were together before, we always said you made a good match.

Grant really takes care of Isla. No matter how bad the signal gets at sea, Miss Brooks never loses her video calls.

Grant only smiled and said, Dont talk nonsense.

He did not look at me.

Isla lowered her head. The tips of her ears turned pink, as if someone had exposed an old secret that could not be admitted.

The servers brought the dishes.

Grant picked out the tender belly of the fish and placed it on Islas plate.

Dont eat the parts with too many bones.

Then he replaced the iced drink beside her with hot tea.

Bad stomach and still drinking cold stuff?

I looked at the raw marinated crab in front of me.

He knew my stomach was weak. He knew I couldnt eat raw or cold food.

During our first year together, he used to remind servers before meals to prepare hot soup for me.

I did not know when the person he remembered became Isla.

Isla picked up her glass and walked over.

Nora, let me toast you. Ive actually always wanted to apologize.

Grant gets so lonely at sea. Sometimes I talk to him because Im afraid hes under too much pressure.

Others started chiming in.

Families need to understand the job. The mental pressure on communications officers isnt something ordinary people get.

Nora, dont take it to heart. Islas an old friend. Shes not an outsider.

Grant is already good enough to his family, right? Young couples shouldnt fight over little things.

I looked at those faces, each one so certain, and suddenly wanted to laugh.

Thirty-one video calls in one month. The shortest was forty minutes. Does that count as work pressure?

The room went quiet.

Grants face darkened.

Nora, do you have to say this here?

Islas eyes immediately reddened.

Nora, youve misunderstood. Im filming a documentary. I needed to understand the ships conditions. Grant was just helping me check technical details.

I took out my phone and lit up the screen.

Does checking technical details require singing happy birthday at two in the morning?

Islas expression slipped for a second, then softened again.

I was in a bad place that night. He was afraid Id do something stupid.

Grant picked up the thread.

Nora, Isla really was struggling last year. I couldnt just watch a friend fall apart.

A friend.

Those two words were a universal sheet thrown over shame.

I said nothing else and set down my teacup.

The mood at dinner had been ruined by me.

For the rest of the meal, no one joked at my expense again.

Grant looked over several times, his eyes full of dissatisfaction.

Halfway through, I went to the restroom.

Isla followed me.

She stood in front of the mirror, reapplying lipstick. Her smile was faint.

Nora, youre recording, arent you?

I did not deny it.

She twisted the lipstick back down.

You dont have to guard against me like this. If Grant really cared about you, nothing I said would matter.

I washed my hands. Water rushed over my fingertips.

Do you know? When hes at sea, Im always the first person he contacts.

The stars, the storms, the docking time. I know all of it before you.

I turned off the faucet.

You know hes married.

Isla looked at me through the mirror.

I know. Thats why I never stole him. Hes the one who cant let go of the past.

She took out her phone.

On the screen was a screenshot.

Grant had written to her:

She hasnt been messaging me lately. Honestly, its peaceful.

The date was the same day I stopped sending him even a period.

Isla said softly, Nora, what men fear most isnt that you make a scene. Its that youre no longer useful but still refuse to leave gracefully.

I dried my hands.

You can say that in court too.

Her expression changed.

When I walked out of the restroom, Grant was waiting at the end of the hall.

He looked at me with open displeasure.

The moment you came, everyone got awkward. Nora, can you not drag your emotions from home into public?

I lifted my head.

Im going back to my parents place tomorrow.

His brows pulled tight, his eyes full of impatience.

I only have a few days off. How long are you planning to keep this up?

I walked past him toward the private room.

Inside my phone, the red dot on the recorder was still glowing.

When we got home, I started packing my clothes.

Grant stood at the bedroom door, his face grim.

Youre moving out now? You want both our families to know we fought?

I folded my everyday clothes into the suitcase.

Its not a fight. Its separation.

Nora.

Whenever he called me by my full name, there was always that strained patience in his voice.

I admit Isla and I have been in touch a bit too much. But you cant twist a normal friendship into something dirty.

I stopped moving.

I messaged you at dawn when I had stomach pain. You replied fourteen days later. That night, you were on video with her for an hour.

Grant frowned.

There are communication rules on board. Private messages cant just be answered whenever.

I placed a stack of printed screenshots on the bed.

March fifteenth.

I had a fever of 102 and asked if he could reply with just one sentence.

That same night, Isla posted a call screenshot. Duration: sixty-three minutes.

April twentieth.

A pipe burst at home. I rushed back from work and dealt with it alone until dawn.

Isla posted a video of Grant showing her the moonlight over the ocean.

May ninth.

My father had a sudden heart attack and was admitted to the hospital. I stood in line at the payment window with shaking hands, entering the wrong PIN over and over.

Grant was singing happy birthday to Isla while someone whistled in the background.

He looked at those papers for a long time without speaking.

Isla was depressed during that period. Her relationship with her family is bad too. I was afraid she might hurt herself.

I smiled faintly.

The day my father had surgery, I was afraid too.

He looked up at me. For a brief moment, something in his expression shifted.

Then his phone rang.

Isla.

Grant answered and put it on speaker.

Isla was crying so hard she could barely breathe.

Grant, Im sorry. I shouldnt have gone to the dinner. Nora said in the restroom that she was going to expose me and ruin my career.

Grant immediately looked at me.

You threatened her?

I kept packing.

The hotel has surveillance.

No need to check. His tone hardened. Isla wouldnt lie about something like this.

I looked at him.

For the past two years, every grievance of mine needed evidence.

One sob from Isla became fact.

Isla continued over the phone, Did I cause trouble for you two? I was only afraid you had no one to talk to at sea

Grant lowered his voice.

Dont cry. Its not your fault.

After he hung up, his gaze settled heavily on me.

Why do you have to push someone whos sick?

Does she have a diagnosis?

Nora, can you not be so cruel?

I took another document from the drawer.

It was a transcript of a voice message I had sent him last winter.

Grant, Im not doing well. The house is so cold and my stomach hurts. Im not trying to bother you. I just want to hear your voice.

That voice message had only been sent to him.

That afternoon, Isla sent me an audio file with a note.

Nora, you really need to see a doctor.

I handed him the screen.

You forwarded it to her?

Grants face changed.

I just wanted her to help me judge whether your emotions were unstable at the time. Shes taken some psychology courses.

The glass cup near my hand fell and shattered across the floor.

A shard sliced across my palm. Blood welled up fast.

Grant saw it.

But he picked up his phone first and messaged Isla.

She lost control. Dont be scared.

I looked down at my hand.

So this was what happened when a person reached a certain point.

Even pain arrived half a beat late.

I pressed a tissue against the cut, picked up my bag, and left.

The emergency hallway was harshly white.

Bennett was waiting by the entrance, holding a copy of the court summons.

When he saw my hand, he went to the nurses station for antiseptic cotton before handing me the papers.

The hearing time is confirmed. Three days from now. Nine in the morning.

I took them.

Bennett hesitated.

Youre sure you dont want mediation?

I looked at the thin cut across my palm.

Im sure.

My phone vibrated.

Grant had sent a message.

You scared Isla badly. Im going to check on her tonight. Calm down.

Bennett glanced at it but said nothing.

I screenshotted the message and saved it.

The next morning, Grant called me.

Im going with Isla to the lighthouse today to shoot some footage. Take your mother to her follow-up appointment yourself.

I looked at the appointment slip in my hand.

You promised youd come with me.

He replied quickly.

Its just a follow-up, not surgery. Dont use family to pressure me.

My mother heard that sentence.

My mother stood at the hospital entrance holding a thermos.

She did not ask.

She only handed it to me.

Lets go. Checkup first.

After reading the report, the doctor suggested further screening.

My mother smiled.

Im getting old. Little problems pile up.

The more she acted like that, the less I could say.

When I was paying, I called Grant.

No answer.

But Islas documentary account updated with a short video.

The wind by the lighthouse was fierce. Grant stood behind her, helping hold the tripod steady.

Isla faced the camera and said, The safest feeling in the world is knowing that whether hes at sea or onshore, hell always make sure I can reach him.

My mother looked at the screen for a long while before asking, Has he always been like this?

I put my phone away.

Yes.

This time, I did not explain for him.

At eight that night, Grant came home.

He carried a bag of seafood porridge and set it on the dining table.

Isla finished shooting. I brought this back on the way. Still hot. You and Mom can make do.

My mother could not eat seafood.

My stomach was weak. I could not eat it either.

He had forgotten all of it.

I poured the porridge into the trash.

For the first time, Grant lost his temper with me.

Nora, what exactly do you want now? I bring something back and you give me attitude. If I dont, you say I dont care.

Is everything I do wrong?

My mother stood from the sofa.

Grant, Nora spent the whole day with me at the hospital. You promised youd come.

Grant softened his tone, but his words stayed hard.

Mom, its not that I dont care about you. Islas side was work too. She was alone near the lighthouse. If her equipment failed, it could have been dangerous.

My mother said nothing more.

My phone vibrated again.

Isla sent me a screenshot.

She and Grant stood beneath the lighthouse, the sunset pressing against the ocean behind them.

Nora, dont blame him. Hes just too kind.

I replied:

See the evidence in court tomorrow.

Within a minute, she deleted her post and removed the short video.

Grants phone rang.

He answered, and Islas voice shook.

Grant, Nora just said something about seeing evidence in court tomorrow. Is she suing me?

I only posted an update. Why is she doing this?

Grant looked at me.

For the first time, panic appeared in his eyes.

What does that mean?

I walked into the study and took out the folder from the drawer.

Court summons.

Copy of the divorce petition.

Call records.

One document after another, I laid them on the table.

Grant picked up the summons. When he saw the hearing date, his face went pale.

Tomorrow?

Nine in the morning.

When did you file? Why didnt you tell me?

I did tell you, I said, looking at him. That day you went to answer Islas call. You didnt hear me.

He set down the summons. His voice dropped.

Nora, were not at that point yet. Withdraw the case first. I can explain.

My mother stood beside me and said softly, Grant, leave.

Grant seemed not to hear. He only stared at me.

Dont let other people lead you by the nose. Was this Bennetts idea? Hes an outsider. What does he know about us?

I picked up my bag by the door.

He knows the law.

Grant reached out to grab me.

I stepped back.

Grant Mercer, my heart is dead. Tomorrow morning at nine, we divorce in court.

He stood there, his hand frozen midair.

Nora

It was the first time in days he had called me like that.

I opened the door.

Get out.

He looked at my mother, then at the documents on the table, as if only now realizing this was not another cold war.

Before the door closed, he called hoarsely, Honey.

I shut the door.

Inside, there was only my mothers controlled breathing and the court summons lying on the table.

A few seconds later, his phone rang outside.

Isla was still calling him.