Timothy read the e-mail message again.
This is Gina. I know you remember me. I am writing to ask you to come to the company’s thirtieth reunion party on April Fourth. I know you have received Dawn’s invitation, and I know you have not responded.
Please. Come to the reunion.
Gina. A name he hadn’t heard in a decade. A name he remembered too well.
“I considered you my friend, once.” He looked at the e-mail message, torn between deleting it, or keeping it. “After what you did.” He almost pressed the delete button on his keyboard, but something inside him stopped him. He himself whisper, “Listen to your heart. It won’t lie to you.”
He knew she’d told the company management he was wrestling with depression, taking an antidepressant, and had started counseling. Beyond that, he knew nothing.
He’d used to wonder if she’d defended him. “Don’t fire him! He’s ill. He needs help.” Or if she’d played a role in what happened. “Force him to take leave. He needs to work things out.” He’d never found an answer. All he’d been told was, “The decision to ask you not return was unanimous.”
She’d never contacted him. He’d sent a friend request on Facebook. Her profile vanished the next day. He’d known it would.
She told him once, “You’ll be a writer one day. Published. I’ll tell people I knew you when you started.” But she’d never learned of the books he’d written. Never read the stories of people finding their way in life. He called the stories, “Heartsongs”. He knew she’d never seen them.
He’d ceased to exist, and had to start his life over. And his heart knew what to do. “No. I won’t.” Timothy deleted the message. “You don’t exist.”
A little story I wrote for Cara Michaels‘s Race The Date flash fiction challenge. Hope you enjoy it. Please, go read the other entries in the challenge this week. I find it amazing the stories people can create in 300 words or less.