The Goodbye She Never Chose
1297 Words
The apartment had never felt so quiet.
Joel had already left for work.
His side of the bed was still warm.
I lay there staring at the ceiling, replaying the conversation from the car.
Again…
I’d apologized.
Again…
He’d forgiven me.
Again…
I walked away wondering if I had been the problem all along.
My phone buzzed on the bedside table.
Mimmy.
I sat up immediately.
Can we please talk today? It’s important.
I stared at the message for almost a minute before replying.
Yes. Same café?
Three dots appeared.
Then disappeared.
Finally…
Yes. But don’t tell Joel.
My stomach tightened.
Why did she keep saying that?
⸻
At noon, I walked into the café.
Mimmy was already sitting in the corner.
The moment she saw me, relief washed over her face.
“You came.”
“I said I would.”
She looked around before leaning closer.
“Has he ever asked to see your phone?”
I frowned.
“No.”
“Never?”
“He’ll use it sometimes if his battery dies.”
“Without asking?”
I hesitated.
“I… don’t know.”
She nodded slowly, almost as if she’d expected that answer.
“Hope, has anything strange happened lately?”
“What do you mean?”
“Like conversations only you and I have had…”
“…and then somehow Joel knows about them?”
I thought back.
The flowers.
The questions.
The timing.
The way Joel always seemed to know exactly what I’d discussed with Mimmy.
A chill ran through me.
“I don’t know.”
Mimmy reached across the table.
“I think someone is reading your messages.”
I laughed nervously.
“That’s impossible.”
“Is it?”
“My phone has a password.”
“So does mine.”
“What are you trying to say?”
She took a slow breath.
“I’m saying… be careful.”
⸻
Before I could answer…
A waiter approached our table.
“Excuse me.”
He smiled politely.
“Is everything alright?”
“Yes,” I replied.
“We’re fine.”
As he walked away, Mimmy whispered,
“See?”
“What?”
“You looked nervous.”
“I wasn’t.”
“You’ve started apologizing to strangers with your eyes.”
I blinked.
“What?”
“You used to laugh loudly.”
“You used to speak without thinking.”
“You used to argue with me.”
She smiled sadly.
“Now you look over your shoulder before every sentence.”
I didn’t know what to say.
Because…
She was right.
⸻
When we left the café, Mimmy hugged me tightly.
“If you ever need somewhere to go…”
She pressed a spare key into my hand.
“My apartment.”
“No questions.”
“No explanations.”
“You’ll always have a place with me.”
Emotion tightened my throat.
“I hope I’ll never need it.”
She smiled.
“So do I.”
⸻
That evening, Joel came home carrying a bouquet of sunflowers.
“My beautiful fiancée.”
He kissed my forehead.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you too.”
He noticed the flowers on the dining table.
“Oh?”
“I bought those yesterday.”
“I know.”
“They’re lovely.”
He placed his bouquet beside them.
“I thought they looked lonely.”
I laughed.
“You always know how to make me smile.”
He wrapped his arms around me.
“Did you have a good day?”
“Yes.”
“What did you do?”
“I met…”
The words caught in my throat.
Mimmy had asked me not to tell him.
“…a decorator.”
Joel nodded.
“How did it go?”
“Fine.”
He smiled.
“I’m glad.”
He didn’t ask another question.
Not one.
For some reason…
That bothered me more.
⸻
Three days later…
My mother called.
“Hope.”
“Hi, Mom.”
“I ran into Mimmy yesterday.”
I smiled.
“Oh?”
Mom sighed.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into that girl.”
“What happened?”
“She was incredibly rude.”
I frowned.
“Mimmy?”
“She barely greeted me.”
“That doesn’t sound like her.”
“Then she made a strange comment.”
“What comment?”
Mom hesitated.
“She said she hoped I wasn’t trusting Joel too much.”
My heart skipped.
“What?”
“I told her she was being ridiculous.”
“I mean…”
She laughed softly.
“Imagine warning me about Joel.”
“That young man has done more for this family in a year than most people do in a lifetime.”
I swallowed.
“What did Mimmy say?”
“She just shook her head.”
“Honestly, Hope…”
Mom’s voice hardened slightly.
“I don’t think she wants you to be happy.”
The call ended shortly after.
But I couldn’t stop thinking.
Mimmy would never be rude to my mother.
Never.
Would she?
⸻
That night, I called Mimmy.
She answered on the second ring.
“Hope.”
“My mom said you were rude to her.”
Silence.
“I wasn’t.”
“She said—”
“I know what she said.”
“Then what happened?”
“I told her…”
Mimmy paused.
“…that I hoped she’d keep checking on you after the wedding.”
“That’s all?”
“That’s all.”
“She said you don’t trust Joel.”
“I don’t.”
Frustration bubbled inside me.
“Mimmy!”
“I’m trying to protect you.”
“I don’t need protection.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I love him.”
“I know.”
“You think he’s manipulating everyone.”
“I do.”
“You’re wrong.”
Silence.
Then…
“I hope I am.”
She hung up.
⸻
The following Sunday, we attended church with my parents.
After the service, people gathered outside, greeting one another.
I noticed my mother talking to two women.
As I approached, one of them smiled.
“So you’re Hope.”
“Yes.”
“We’ve heard so much about you.”
I smiled politely.
“Mostly from Joel.”
She laughed.
“That man adores you.”
“He never stops talking about how hardworking you are.”
“And how forgetful you can be.”
My smile faltered.
“What?”
“Oh…”
She waved a hand dismissively.
“He says you’re always forgetting meals, appointments, birthdays.”
“But don’t worry…”
“That’s why God gave you Joel.”
“He keeps your life together.”
Everyone laughed.
Including my mother.
I forced myself to laugh too.
But inside…
Something cracked.
Forgetful.
That word again.
Joel had told so many people.
Not as an insult.
As a concern.
As a joke.
As proof that he cared for me.
Little by little…
He was creating a version of Hope.
A woman who was sweet…
But absent-minded.
Emotional.
Disorganized.
Someone who needed looking after.
And because he always said it with a smile…
No one questioned it.
⸻
That evening, as Joel slept peacefully beside me, I opened the drawer of my bedside table.
Inside…
Wrapped in a tissue…
Was the spare key Mimmy had given me.
I picked it up.
Turned it over in my hand.
Then hid it beneath a stack of old letters.
For reasons I couldn’t explain…
I wasn’t ready to throw it away.
Not yet.
Somewhere deep inside me…
A tiny voice whispered that I might need it one day.
I just didn’t know…
How soon that day was coming.
- Writer
