It wasn’t flirty.It wasn’t transactional.It wasn’t even clear what the sender wanted.
But it was honest.
And it hit me in the chest like a soft punch.
Lingering.
My fingers were flying over the screen before my brain caught up, clicking the sender’s name: R.Wilson95
The name resonated in a way that I’d not expected it to.It had been years; nothing, not a word.
Not until the livestream.That was why I was feeling so out of sorts.
But it couldn’t be, could it?
Robbie?
My stomach flipped.
It just might be...?
His quiet admission was echoing in my head.“I keep on coming back here.”
In my line of work, most of my clients only gave their first names.Rick had been a little different.A little ‘old skool’ wanting images on a flash drive.I’d written the envelope myself.‘Mr R.Willson’.The age matched the son he’d mentioned.The vibe matched, too.And something about the message — the way it was written — felt familiar.Like grief wrapped in curiosity.
I didn’t reply right away.My thoughts were too scattered for me to find the right words.
Instead, I sat down on the couch, pasta forgotten, and stared at the screen.
“Who are you?”I whispered to the screen.
And why did it feel like this message mattered more than any tip or compliment I’d ever received?
Ididn’t know how longI’d been sitting there staring at the now blank screen like it held all the answers to the universe.I barely noticed Gav walk in.To be honest, I sometimes turned a blind eye to whatever the chaos goblin was up to.But this time, he burst through the door like a hurricane in skinny jeans.
“Mate, I swear to God, if I have to sit through one more team-building Zoom call where Karen from HR wants us to ‘share our spirit animals,’ I’m going to fake my own death.”
My brain slowly came back online, and I blinked up at him, phone still in hand.
“Mine would be a sloth,” he says absently.
Gav flopped onto the armchair.“Yours would be a panther with a trust fund.What’s got you all dreamy-eyed?Did someone send you a dick pic shaped like a swan?”
“No.Just...a message.”
Gav raised an eyebrow.“From a fan?”
“Sort of.It’s...different.”
I hesitated, not sure how much to share, my thumb hovering over the screen.
Gav leaned forward.“Ooh, is it a stalker?Please say it’s a stalker.I’ve always wanted to help someone file a restraining order.”
I knew he was only joking, but...his words struck a nerve.
“It’s not a stalker.It’s...someone who knew Rick.”
Gav’s face softened.“Oh.”
