Left Shivering In The Rain
Language: en
Zach’s phone had an automated reminder set. I only saw it once, a fleeting glance when his screen lit up on our nightstand. The note read: Rain this weekend. Remind her to bring an umbrella. I swallowed the warmth of that gesture whole, foolishly believing the "her" was me. Until the night of the tropical storm. I stood under the shallow awning of our office building, the wind whipping rain against my shins, waiting for him with a heart full of quiet anticipation. Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. The chill seeped through my flats, but he didn’t show. When I finally called, his voice on the…