[ For a moment there's nothing but static. A heavy pause filled with nothing but the far-away noise of traffic. Then, a long exhale. ]

"Y'know, I know... This isn't the best. I think I was afraid of what I'd say if you actually picked up, hey? Impulse control. I was always bad at that. With you. And I know you're not gonna play this or check it and that's fine. Never heard of anything more fine, I'd deserve it. I just had this wasp in my brain and it's uh— Christ, what time is it over there? I, uh, I'm in France. Early morning. Doing this whole... press thing. No idea how many timezones I've crossed this week. Chasing ghosts. That's uh, that's my new hobby."

[ Another long pause. As if he knows he's starting to ramble. Being dishonest. ]

"Look. This isn't one of those apology things. I did what was easy for me and left without a reason. My absence is this messy fucking survival mechanism that is this dark reflection of what I've let myself be and it wasn't fair to let you sign up for that. —Or you wanted that, at some point. For me to be a human being and communicate some semblance of the fact. And I... didn't know how. The kids and Susan and me, y'know, I know you just wanted a place. All you ever asked. I keep replaying that conversation in my head and I—"

[ He laughs. It's not a happy sound. ]

"Jesus, I sound like such a fucking schmuck. That's a lotta I's, hey?"

[ Again, silence. The far-away sounds of traffic. He just breathes. ]

"Katheryn— You don't have to answer. Or call. Or write or even listen to this. I, uh. I'm doing all the wrong things and being selfish. I don't know what I'm doing here."

[ He clears his throat. Tries one more time to say something real, anything at all. ]

"Right. I won't call again."

[ Lying should be harder than that. ]