11. Chloe

I watchhim go until he turns a corner and I can’t see him anymore.

I pull my phone out of my pocket and scroll to my photos until I find the album I’m looking for. It has no words for a title, only a broken heart emoji.

I click on it and scroll all the way to the top so I can read the messages. Maybe I was crazy to save the screenshots, but at the time, I wanted to save them to remind myself to never let myself trust so freely again.

I barely remember those months after Elias left. I was alive… but it didn’t feel like it.

I start to read, and with each text I read, my heart cracks a little more. I can feel the heartache and despair in the messages and now, knowing he never read them, well, I’m not sure how that makes me feel. Relieved, maybe. Because surely, if he had read them he would have responded.

I read through the messages, and it takes me back to that time and how I felt.

Hey! It’s me, Chloe. I am just checking on you.

Two days later, I wrote, I hope you’re okay. Text me when you can.

Hey Elias. I’m thinking you’re somewhere with really bad service. If you get this, please let me know you’re okay.

For weeks, it’s the same thing over and over, text after text of me asking him to call me or text me. It’s not until about a month after he’d left that my texts get more desperate.

I was a fool. I should have known you were too good to be true.

If you wanted a one night stand, you should have just told me. You were there that night. You knew I wanted you. I wouldn’t have said no.

Why? Can you just tell me why?

And then the last text I sent him.

It’s crazy to think that you can fall in love in one night but I did. I want to regret what happened between us but I can’t. Even after all this time, that night with you meant something to me but I have to try and move on. I’m not going to text you anymore. I hope you’re safe. Take care.

I pull my legs up and rest my chin on my knee. He was hurt. If I had known that, would I have done something different? I close my eyes and think back on that time of my life. I have no doubt whatsoever what I would have done. I would have found him and stayed with him through his recovery. I would have fought for him—with him—to make sure he had the best treatment possible. I would have done anything to be with him.

But he didn’t give me that opportunity.

He didn’t give me a chance. Hell, he didn’t give us a chance.

I’m sure he thinks he did the right thing, but I have to disagree with him, and I don’t want a repeat from the past.

I lift my head, open my phone, and search my contacts. I click on Elias’ name and start typing. Before I can talk myself out of it, I hit send.

I re-read the text I just sent.

Just checking to make sure I have the right number.

I hold my breath as I wait for his response, but I don’t have to wait long.

You have the right number.

I let out a sigh and stare at the phone. I should just let it go because I know I have the right number, so I should just leave it at that. But that’s not who I am.

I’m about to type a response when another text comes through.

What are you thinking about?

I’m about to text him nothing when another text comes through.

Don’t tell me nothing.

I smile and shake my head and type out an honest answer.

I’ve been sitting here reading the texts I sent you after you left five years ago.

The bubbles appear and let me know that he’s writing something, but they disappear before the text comes.

I can’t look away from the screen as I wait for him to text. Finally, it comes.

I’d like to read them.

My heart starts to race at the thought of him reading the text messages. Just the thought of him reading the text where I confessed to loving him has my palms sweaty and a pit forming in my stomach. I reply,

Maybe.

Before he can ask again, I change the subject.

I’m scared, Elias.

Of what?

I bite my lip.

That you’ll leave and I won’t hear from you again.

I slowly let out a breath as I wait for his response. I remind myself that no matter what he says, I can’t fully trust it. He’s let me down before, and he’ll do it again.

A week, Chloe. I promise.

I stare at the phone and read his response over and over. I want to tell him that five years ago, he made promises too and didn’t keep those, but I don’t say any of that.

Okay. Be safe. Talk to you soon.

I set the phone on the concrete slab beside me, and even though I have a lot of things I need to be doing, all I can do is sit here and worry if Elias is going to be okay and if he really will be coming back to Whiskey Run.