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Chapter 22: The unknown number texted again
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2026-04-26 09:06:44
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One night wasn't enough Chapter 22: The unknown number texted again
Three days after dinner with Derek.Nothing from Sandra. No follow up, no response to my last message, nothing. Just silence the way the first message was silent for three days before the photo arrived.Waiting for someone you do not know to contact you again is a specific kind of discomfort. Not fear exactly.Caleb comes over Wednesday evening.He arrived with groceries, which is something he has started doing, showing up with actual ingredients rather than takeout.We cooked badly together the way we have started doing, his version of cooking badly being considerably better than most people's version of cooking well, the kitchen warm, music on low. We chatted about a difficult client meeting.I told him about a brief that is making me want to reconsider my entire career."Every creative person says that at least once a month," he says."What do you say instead.""I say the client is wrong.""Out loud?""In my head. Very loudly." He hands me something to chop. "Then I fix the brief."
One night wasn't enough Chapter 21: Dinner with Derek
The restaurant is not our usual kind of place.That is the first thing I noticed when I walked in. Derek and I have our spots. Loud corners with good burgers. Places where the music is slightly too high. Spots where the waiters know his order before he sits down. Comfortable and familiar.This place is quiet. Proper tablecloths. Candles that are not decorative, they are the main light source. The kind of restaurant where people speak at a volume that does not carry to the next table.Derek was already there when I arrived, which is suspicious on its own. He stands when he sees me coming, which he never does."You're early," I say, sitting down."Punctuality is a virtue.""You have never been punctual in your life Derek.""New year, new me.""It's October."He picks up the menu. "You look good.""Thank you." I picked up mine. "You look like someone who chose a restaurant he has never taken me to before.""Trying something new.""Since when.""Since always. Can we look at the menu.""We
One night wasn't enough chapter 20: someone's watching
Sandra.The name sits on my screen and does nothing to explain itself.Lena reads it over my shoulder twice. Then she pulls out the chair next to me and sits down properly like this conversation just became a longer one than she planned for."Okay," she says. "Who is Sandra?""No idea.""You've never heard Caleb mention Sandra.""Never.""Derek?""No."She takes my phone and reads the messages again from the beginning. The first one from last week. The photo. The name."She's been watching you," Lena says."Yes.""She knew which restaurant you went to Friday.""Yes.""She was standing outside on that street while you were inside.""Lena I know.""Maya." She puts the phone down. "This is not a wrong number situation.""Obviously.""This is someone who has a problem with your situation.""Or someone has a problem with Caleb's situation," I say. "She said," Ask him. She thinks he knows who she is."Lena is quiet for a moment. "So either Caleb knows this woman.""Or she wants me to think
One night wasn't enough Chapter 19: Unknown number
I parked outside my building and sat in the car.The message is still on my screen.You should ask Caleb who I am before this goes any further.No name. No context. Nothing attached to the number when I search it. My first instinct is to call Caleb.My second instinct, arriving approximately three seconds later, is not to. Because calling Caleb means showing him the message, means having a conversation about who might be sending it means opening a door I am not sure either of us is ready to walk through on the same night we just said true things to each other on a pavement in the cold.So I sat in my car.I read the message four more times.Then I screenshot it, save it to a folder, check the number twice on two different search platforms, find absolutely nothing attached to it, so I closed everything down, went upstairs, brushed my teeth and went to lay downI stared at the ceiling for a long time.“Wrong number”, I tell myself in the morning.Someone who has the wrong contact saved
One night wasn't enough Chapter 18
So," he says."So," I say back."Something real.""We established that.""We did." He picks up his drink. "What does that look like for you."The question is so direct that for a moment I do not know what to do with it. Nobody asks me that. People ask what I want to do, where I want to go, what I think about things. Nobody asks what something looks like for me specifically. Like my version of it might be different from the standard version. Like that difference matters."I don't know," I say honestly.He nods like that is a completely acceptable answer. "Okay. Take your time."He means it. That is the thing about Caleb. When he says take your time he is not performing patience. He genuinely settles in like he has nowhere else to be, like the answer will arrive when it arrives, like waiting for something true is never a waste of time.So I take my time.The playlist moves through two songs. His apartment settles into the particular quiet of late evening in a building this high up."I
One night wasn't enough Chapter 17
Three days after the photo incident Caleb texts me.Free tonight? Nothing attached to them. No reference to the photo or the way things felt slightly different when I left his apartment or the fact that we have not spoken since.Yes, I text back.Nothing attached to that either.His apartment feels the same when I arrive. Same low light, same easy warmth, same city doing its thing through the floor to ceiling windows. He opens the door in a grey t-shirt with a dish cloth over his shoulder because he has been cooking, which is just something Caleb does on a weekday evening like it is nothing."Hey," he says."Hey," I say back.We do not hug immediately the way we have started doing. There is a half second where we both register that and neither of us says anything about it. He steps back to let me in. I take off my shoes. We move to the kitchen where something smells good on the stove."Sit," he says. "Ten minutes."I sit at the counter on the stool I have come to think of as mine. I
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