Chapter 2: The Phone He Flipped Face-Down
Travis's face was white.
Not embarrassed.
Not annoyed.
Genuinely pale.
He pointed at the recliner without saying a word.
I stepped closer.
The entire left armrest was soaked.
The leather was warped, bubbling slightly at the seam.
One of the cup holders had been pulled completely loose and was sitting on the floor beside Noah's little hand.
Noah looked up at me and smiled.
Travis finally found his voice.
"He climbed up while I was in the bathroom.
I was gone four minutes."
I looked at my son.
Then at the chair.
Then back at Travis.
"Is he hurt?"
"No.
He's fine.
The chair is not fine."
I nodded slowly.
"So Noah is fine."
"The leather is ruined.
The mechanism might be damaged.
This is an $1,800 chair."
Something shifted in me right then.
I didn't yell.
I didn't even raise my voice.
I just said, "And our son has been eating on my lap for two months because you said $109 was too much."
Travis opened his mouth.
Then closed it.
I picked Noah up, kissed his cheek, and walked toward the kitchen.
Behind me, I heard Travis quietly pick up his phone.
I assumed he was calling the manufacturer.
But when I passed the doorway a few minutes later, I stopped.
He wasn't calling the manufacturer.
He was texting someone.
And the moment he heard my footstep, he flipped the phone face-down.
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What Travis was hiding on that phone changed everything.
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