chapter two: The Message
2951 Words
Brittany stared at her phone as if the message on the screen might disappear if she looked at it long enough.
Johnson: Can we talk?
Three simple words.
Yet they had managed to shake the entire world she had carefully rebuilt over the past three years.
She read the message again.
Then again.
Her thumb hovered over the screen.
She could block him.
She could delete the message.
She could pretend she had never seen it.
That would be the easiest thing to do.
But Brittany knew herself well enough to understand that ignoring Johnson would not make the questions disappear.
Why had he left?
Why had he disappeared without saying goodbye?
Why had he allowed her to believe that she meant nothing to him?
And, most importantly, why had he decided to come back now?
She locked her phone and tossed it onto the bed.
“No,” she whispered.
She took two steps toward the window before stopping.
She picked up the phone again.
Her heart was telling her to answer.
Her pride was telling her to walk away.
For three years, pride had won.
This time, curiosity won.
She typed slowly.
Brittany: What do you want?
She stared at the words before pressing send.
Almost immediately, the phone vibrated.
Johnson: I need to see you.
Brittany's stomach tightened.
She typed another message.
Brittany: Why?
The typing bubble appeared.
Disappeared.
Appeared again.
Then nothing.
Brittany waited.
A minute passed.
Then two.
Then five.
Finally, another message arrived.
Johnson: There are things I should have told you three years ago.
Brittany felt a sharp pain in her chest.
Things.
That was all he could say?
After three years of silence?
She laughed bitterly.
“Of course.”
She threw the phone onto the bed again.
There had been a time when Johnson could say anything to her and she would listen.
There had been a time when his voice was the first thing she wanted to hear every morning and the last thing she wanted to hear before falling asleep.
They had been inseparable.
Everyone knew them as Brittany and Johnson.
Where one was, the other was usually nearby.
They had talked about everything.
Marriage.
Children.
Travel.
Their dream house.
Even the names they would give their children.
Brittany remembered one particular evening when they had sat together beneath the old tree behind Johnson's family home.
Johnson had held her hand and smiled.
“One day,” he had told her, “I'm going to marry you.”
She had laughed.
“You say that now.”
“I mean it.”
“You better.”
He had pulled her closer.
“I'll never leave you.”
That promise had been the one thing Brittany had believed more than anything else.
Until he broke it.
Three years ago, Johnson had vanished.
No warning.
No explanation.
No goodbye.
His phone stopped working.
His apartment was empty.
His social media accounts disappeared.
Brittany had gone to his family home, but no one would give her a straight answer.
She had called his friends.
Nothing.
She had cried.
She had begged.
She had waited.
And eventually, she had accepted that the man she loved was gone.
At least, that was what she had told herself.
A knock interrupted her thoughts.
“Brittany?”
She quickly wiped her eyes.
“Come in.”
The door opened, and Williams stepped inside.
Williams was Brittany's younger sister, but there were moments when she acted more like her older sister.
She looked at Brittany carefully.
“You've been staring at your phone for almost twenty minutes.”
Brittany forced a smile.
“I was just thinking.”
“About him?”
Brittany looked away.
Williams didn't need an answer.
“Johnson?”
Brittany sighed.
“He messaged me.”
Williams's expression immediately changed.
“What?”
“He messaged me.”
“What did he say?”
Brittany picked up her phone and showed her the messages.
Williams read them silently.
When she finished, she handed the phone back.
“No.”
Brittany frowned.
“No what?”
“No, Brittany. Don't.”
“You don't even know what he wants.”
“I know enough.”
Williams sat down beside her.
“I watched what happened to you after he disappeared. You stopped eating properly. You barely slept. You didn't want to talk to anyone.”
Brittany swallowed.
“I know.”
“You spent months blaming yourself.”
“I know.”
“And now he comes back after three years and says, ‘Can we talk?’”
Williams shook her head.
“That's not enough.”
Brittany stared at the floor.
“What if something happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“What if he had a reason?”
Williams became quiet.
“Then he can explain it.”
Brittany looked at her.
“But what if the reason is serious?”
“Then listen from a distance.”
Brittany smiled sadly.
“You make it sound so easy.”
“It isn't easy.”
Williams reached for her hand.
“That's why I'm telling you to be careful.”
Brittany looked down at their hands.
“I loved him.”
“I know.”
“I still…”
She stopped.
Williams waited.
Brittany couldn't finish the sentence.
Williams squeezed her hand.
“You don't have to say it.”
Brittany looked toward the window.
Outside, the evening sky was turning dark.
She wondered if Johnson was looking at the same sky.
She wondered if he had thought about her.
She wondered if he had missed her.
And the worst question of all came into her mind.
What if she still loved him?
---
The next morning, Brittany woke up earlier than usual.
For several seconds, she forgot everything.
Then she reached for her phone.
There was another message.
Johnson: Tomorrow. 6 PM. The old café.
Brittany sat up.
The old café.
Her heart immediately began beating faster.
That café wasn't just a café.
It was where everything had started.
Johnson had taken her there on their first date.
It was where he had first held her hand.
Where he had told her he loved her.
Where they had celebrated her twenty-first birthday.
Where they had spent countless evenings talking about their future.
And now, after three years, he wanted to meet her there.
Brittany didn't respond.
She spent the entire day trying to convince herself she wouldn't go.
At noon, she told herself she wouldn't.
At three, she still hadn't changed her mind.
By five, she was standing in front of her mirror.
She changed clothes three times.
Then she laughed at herself.
“Why do I care what I look like?”
She put on a simple dress.
Nothing special.
Nothing that suggested she had spent almost an hour choosing it.
She grabbed her purse.
Williams saw her coming downstairs.
“Where are you going?”
Brittany hesitated.
“The café.”
Williams immediately knew.
“You're meeting him?”
Brittany nodded.
Williams sighed.
“Brittany…”
“I need answers.”
“I know.”
“I won't stay long.”
Williams walked toward her.
“Promise me something.”
“What?”
“If he hurts you again, don't hide it from me.”
Brittany looked into her sister's eyes.
“I promise.”
Williams hugged her.
“Be careful.”
“I will.”
Brittany walked outside.
But before she got into the car, she stopped.
Something inside her told her not to go.
For a moment, she almost turned around.
Then she remembered the message.
There are things I should have told you three years ago.
She needed to know.
---
At exactly 5:57 PM, Brittany arrived at the café.
She sat in her car for several minutes.
Her hands were cold.
Her heart was racing.
She looked through the window.
The café hadn't changed much.
Same sign.
Same windows.
Same little tables near the entrance.
She took a deep breath and walked inside.
The moment she entered, she smelled coffee and cinnamon.
Memories came rushing back.
She almost turned around.
Then she saw him.
Johnson.
He was sitting at the table in the far corner.
For a moment, Brittany couldn't breathe.
Three years had changed him.
His face looked harder.
His hair was slightly longer.
There were faint lines around his eyes that hadn't been there before.
But it was still him.
The same eyes.
The same smile.
The same man who had once promised never to leave her.
Johnson stood when he saw her.
Neither of them spoke.
Brittany stopped a few feet away.
Johnson looked at her as if he couldn't believe she was actually there.
“You came.”
His voice was softer than she remembered.
Brittany folded her arms.
“You asked me to.”
Johnson nodded.
“I know.”
“Sit.”
They sat across from each other.
For several seconds, neither spoke.
Finally, Brittany broke the silence.
“Why?”
Johnson looked at her.
“Why what?”
“Why did you contact me?”
He took a deep breath.
“Because I couldn't stay away anymore.”
Brittany laughed without humor.
“You stayed away for three years.”
“I know.”
“You didn't call.”
“I know.”
“You didn't write.”
“I know.”
“You didn't even give me a goodbye.”
Johnson lowered his eyes.
“I know.”
Brittany's eyes filled with tears.
“Do you know what that did to me?”
Johnson looked up.
“I can imagine.”
“No.”
Her voice cracked.
“You can't.”
She wiped away a tear.
“You weren't there when I couldn't sleep. You weren't there when I kept checking my phone hoping you would call. You weren't there when everyone asked me what happened to you and I didn't have an answer.”
Johnson remained silent.
“You weren't there when I started thinking maybe I wasn't good enough.”
His jaw tightened.
“Brittany…”
“You promised me.”
“I know.”
“You promised you would never leave.”
“I know.”
“Then why did you?”
Johnson looked around the café.
His eyes stopped on the door.
Then he leaned closer.
“Because I was trying to protect you.”
Brittany frowned.
“Protect me from what?”
Johnson didn't answer immediately.
Instead, he reached inside his jacket.
He pulled out a small brown envelope.
He placed it on the table.
Brittany stared at it.
“What is that?”
“Something I should have given you three years ago.”
She looked at him.
“What's inside?”
“You'll understand everything when you read it.”
Brittany reached for the envelope.
Before she could open it, Johnson grabbed her wrist.
“Wait.”
She looked at him.
“What?”
“Before you read it, I need you to promise me something.”
“I'm not promising anything.”
“Brittany, please.”
His voice sounded different.
Afraid.
She had never heard Johnson sound afraid before.
“What?”
“If anything happens after tonight, don't trust anyone.”
Brittany stared at him.
“What are you talking about?”
“I mean exactly what I said.”
“You're scaring me.”
“I know.”
“Then explain.”
Johnson looked around again.
This time, his eyes seemed nervous.
“There are people who don't want you to know what happened.”
“What people?”
He opened his mouth.
But before he could answer, the café door opened.
Johnson immediately stopped talking.
His face changed.
All the color disappeared from it.
Brittany slowly turned around.
A tall man stood near the entrance.
He was wearing a dark jacket and a black cap.
He wasn't looking at anyone else.
His eyes were fixed directly on Johnson.
Johnson whispered,
“That's him.”
Brittany turned back.
“Who?”
“The man I was running from.”
The stranger began walking toward them.
Slowly.
Calmly.
Brittany's heart started racing.
“Johnson, who is that?”
“Don't look at him.”
“Why?”
“Because if he knows you recognize him, we're both in danger.”
Brittany's breathing became shallow.
The man was getting closer.
Johnson stood.
“Brittany, listen to me carefully.”
She looked at him.
“If I tell you to run, you run.”
“What?”
“Don't ask questions.”
The man was now only a few tables away.
Johnson reached into his pocket.
Brittany saw something inside his hand.
A key.
He placed it on the table beside the envelope.
“Take this.”
“What is it?”
“A key.”
“To what?”
“My old house.”
Brittany stared at him.
“Why would I need that?”
“Because there's something there that will tell you the truth.”
“What truth?”
Johnson looked directly into her eyes.
“The truth about why I left you.”
Brittany's heart pounded.
“And what does your family have to do with it?”
Johnson's expression suddenly changed.
Before he could answer, the stranger reached their table.
He stopped beside Johnson.
“It's been three years,” the man said quietly.
Johnson didn't move.
The stranger looked at Brittany.
Then he smiled.
A cold smile that made her skin crawl.
“So this is Brittany.”
Brittany froze.
“How do you know my name?”
The man's smile disappeared.
“Your name has been mentioned many times.”
Johnson stepped between them.
“Leave her out of this.”
The man laughed softly.
“You still don't understand, Johnson.”
“Don't.”
“You disappeared for three years, changed your number, changed your address, and thought that would be enough?”
Johnson's fists tightened.
“I did what I had to do.”
“And now you've brought her back into it.”
Brittany looked between them.
“What is he talking about?”
Johnson turned toward her.
“Brittany, please trust me.”
“Trust you?”
Her voice trembled.
“You disappear for three years and suddenly tell me someone wanted to hurt me. Now this man knows my name. What am I supposed to think?”
The stranger leaned closer.
“You should ask Johnson what happened the night his father died.”
Brittany's eyes widened.
Johnson's face went completely pale.
“What did you just say?”
The stranger smiled.
“Tell her.”
Johnson said nothing.
“Tell her what happened.”
Brittany looked at Johnson.
“Your father?”
Johnson swallowed.
“My father died three years ago.”
“When?”
“The same week I disappeared.”
Brittany's heart sank.
“Why didn't you tell me?”
“Because I was trying to keep you safe.”
The stranger interrupted.
“You were trying to keep yourself safe.”
Johnson suddenly grabbed Brittany's hand.
“We have to go.”
“Wait!”
“Now.”
They moved toward the exit.
But before they could reach the door, the stranger spoke again.
“Brittany.”
She stopped.
Johnson tightened his grip.
“Don't turn around.”
But Brittany did.
The stranger was standing beside their table.
He pointed toward the envelope.
“You should open that before you trust him.”
Brittany looked at Johnson.
His face was full of fear.
Then the stranger said something that made her blood run cold.
“Because the letter inside wasn't written by Johnson.”
Brittany's eyes widened.
“What?”
The stranger smiled.
“It was written by your mother.”
Everything around Brittany seemed to stop.
Her mother had died when Brittany was a child.
At least, that was what she had always been told.
She slowly looked at Johnson.
“Why would my mother write me a letter?”
Johnson didn't answer.
“Johnson?”
Still nothing.
“Tell me the truth.”
His eyes filled with tears.
Then he whispered the words Brittany had never expected to hear.
“Your mother isn't dead.”
Brittany stopped breathing.
“What?”
Johnson looked toward the stranger.
Then back at her.
“She has been alive this entire time.”
Brittany's hands began to shake.
“No.”
“Brittany…”
“No.”
She stepped backward.
“You're lying.”
“I wish I was.”
She looked at the envelope on the table.
Then at the stranger.
Then back at Johnson.
For three years, she had believed she lost Johnson.
She had believed her mother was dead.
She had believed she knew the truth about her own life.
But suddenly, everything she believed was beginning to fall apart.
Johnson reached for her hand.
“There's something else you need to know.”
Brittany pulled away.
“What?”
Johnson looked at her with tears in his eyes.
“The reason I left you wasn't because of my father.”
He paused.
“It was because your mother made me promise to keep you away from her.”
Brittany stared at him.
“Why?”
Johnson opened his mouth.
But before he could speak, his phone rang.
He looked at the screen.
His expression changed instantly.
“Who is it?” Brittany asked.
Johnson didn't answer.
He slowly turned the phone toward her.
The caller ID showed a name Brittany hadn't seen in more than fifteen years.
MOM.
And then the phone rang again.
This time, Brittany was the one who had to decide whether she was ready to hear the truth.
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