I expected satisfaction.
There was some.
I'd be lying if I claimed otherwise.
But it was quieter than revenge fantasies make it seem.
Mostly, I felt relieved I wasn't standing beside Sarah while everything collapsed.
My phone began buzzing.
Mark.
Another friend.
My cousin.
People sending the article.
Dude did you see this?
Holy crap.
Isn't that Sarah's guy?
I stopped responding.
It felt like watching a fire in a building I'd already moved out of.
Three days later, an unknown number texted me.
Hey. I know this is a long shot. It's Sarah.
I read it.
Set the phone down.
Ten minutes later:
I know you've probably seen the news.
Then:
Things are really bad.
No response.
That evening:
I don't know who else to talk to.
The next morning:
You were always good at listening.
That line almost made me angry.
Good at listening.
The safe guy.
The dependable guy.
The man she no longer wanted until her exciting life collapsed.
Another message arrived.
I feel so stupid.
Then:
I'm sorry, Alex. About everything.
I didn't block the number.
I simply didn't answer.
For the first few days, Sarah's messages sounded apologetic.
Then desperate.
Then entitled.
Can you please just say something?
I know you hate me.
I deserve that.
Please.
Then:
Are you really going to ignore me forever?
Then:
I'm going through a lot right now.
Then:
I thought you would at least be decent about this.
That one made me laugh.
I thought you would at least be decent.
Apparently decency meant providing emotional support to the person who betrayed me after the man she chose became unavailable.
I remained silent.
A week later, the tone changed again.
This is really low, Alex.
I know you're seeing these.
I just want to talk.
I'm not asking you to take me back.
That last statement was a lie.
Maybe Sarah didn't consciously know it yet.
But everything about her messages pointed toward the same destination.
She wanted the safe place again.
I wasn't it.
Then she called my mother.
My phone rang on a Saturday afternoon.
"Hey, Mom."
"Alex, honey."
Something in her voice immediately concerned me.
"What's wrong?"
"Sarah called."
I closed my eyes.
"When?"
"About twenty minutes ago."
"What did she want?"
"She was crying."
I walked into the kitchen.
"What did you say?"
"I mostly listened."
"Mom."
"I know."
She sighed.
"She sounded awful."
"That's not your responsibility."
"I know."
"What did she say?"
My mother hesitated.
"That she made a terrible mistake."
I said nothing.
"She said she isn't the same person anymore."
Nothing.
"She said she understands why you won't answer."
I almost laughed.
"Then why is she calling you?"
My mother became quiet.
"She wants me to ask you to talk to her."
There it was.
"Mom."
"I told her I couldn't promise anything."
"Please block her."
"Alex."
"No."
My voice stayed calm.
"She's using you to get around a boundary."
"I don't think she meant to use me."
"Maybe not consciously."