Aiden's attention on the gated house before him wavered when his phone dinged with a notification, the shrill sound slicing through the heavy afternoon heat. He ignored it, his gaze remaining fixed on the silent gate as though sheer will could force it open.
Then he pressed the side button and silenced the call that followed after, considering it a nuisance at that moment, his jaw tightening.
Work could wait, he thought, like he was waiting for his ex-wife to open the gate of the house, or for his daughter to convince her to let him in.
It's been twenty-five minutes since he has been standing outside the gate under the hot sun, sweat beginning to cling stubbornly to the back of his neck, and he was beginning to realize that maybe, like the eight times before which he had come here, his ex-wife might not open the gate for him.
And yet could he blame her?
He hissed in frustration, dragging a rough breath through his teeth as he silenced the call that came in again.
