The subway train rumbled through the tunnel, emitting a steady hum. Claire leaned against the cold train door, watching the darkness rush by outside the window, the faint glow of her phone screen reflecting off her slightly weary face.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
At the top of the screen, an unsent text message lay quietly in the input field:
\u201cHey Arthur, I saw the new coffee shop near your office today. It made me think of you. Hope you\u2019re doing well.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She stared at those words for a long time. Arthur. That name was like a small pebble gently tossed into the calm lake of her heart, sending out a faint ripple. They had once been very good friends, but later, due to some inexplicable misunderstandings and pride, they gradually lost touch. Now, he was on the other side of the city, living a life parallel to hers.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Claire\u2019s finger hovered over the send button. What would happen if she sent it? Maybe he\u2019d reply politely, maybe he\u2019d find it abrupt, maybe\u2026 nothing at all would happen. This uncertainty made her feel a twinge of timidity. She recalled the last time they\u2019d met, when Arthur was wearing the gray sweater she\u2019d given him and had smiled at her, saying, \u201cNext time, I\u2019ll treat you to coffee.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
But that \u201cnext time\u201d never came.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The subway\u2019s arrival chime rang out abruptly, interrupting her train of thought. The doors opened, and a wave of air\u2014a mix of perfume and coffee\u2014swept in. Claire took a deep breath, pressed the delete button with a slight squeeze of her thumb.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
The message vanished instantly, as if it had never existed.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She put her phone away and followed the crowd out of the subway station. The sunlight outside was a bit blinding; she squinted and looked up at the sky. It was a pure blue, without a single cloud.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Walking to the caf\u00e9 on the corner where she often went, she pushed the door open out of habit. Just after ordering an Americano, she turned around and nearly bumped into a familiar figure.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cClaire?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It was Arthur. He was holding a book and wearing that gray sweater; he looked a bit more mature than she remembered, but his smile was still just as warm.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cArthur, what a coincidence,\u201d Claire said, a little surprised, her heart skipping a beat.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cYeah, what a coincidence,\u201d Arthur smiled, his gaze falling on the coffee cup in her hand. \u201cSame as always\u2014an Americano, no sugar?\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Claire nodded, a smile spreading across her face without her realizing it. \u201cYou haven\u2019t changed either\u2014you always like to sit by the window when you\u2019re reading.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
They exchanged a smile, and the air was filled with a long-lost sense of ease and understanding.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
\u201cWant to sit down for a bit?\u201d Arthur pointed to the empty seat next to him. \u201cI was just looking for someone to talk to about the book I\u2019ve been reading lately.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Claire hesitated for a moment, then nodded. \u201cSure.\u201d<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She sat down and watched the passersby outside the window. Suddenly, she realized that some things might not need to be confirmed with a text message. Life always has a way of bringing unexpected reunions at some unplanned corner.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
She picked up her coffee and took a gentle sip. The bitterness carried a hint of sweetness\u2014just like her mood at that moment.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
The Text Message She Deleted<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":671,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"_acf_changed":false,"footnotes":""},"categories":[4],"tags":[18],"class_list":["post-670","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","has-post-thumbnail","hentry","category-heal","tag-story"],"acf":[],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/670","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=670"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/670\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":672,"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/670\/revisions\/672"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/671"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=670"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=670"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/storyrecyclebin.com\/index.php\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=670"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}