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lucy-268 · 2 months ago

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There isn’t a lot that I log on for right now, but this got me here. And it hurt - just like I knew it would. Is there going to be a reply? Or are we going to see her thoughts as the reads the message? Will you give me a heads up?

Back to @creativepromptsforwriting's 30-Day Challenge - Day 18 took me a little longer than anticipated. The prompt was "Use the title of the last song you listened to. "My last song was Ed Sheeran's Old Phone, which gave me the opportunity to get my angst on again - and I have to admit - I enjoyed it!

Book: Open Heart (post series) Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x Kaycee MacClennan (F!MC) Featuring: Tobias Carrick Rating: Teen Words: ~3,000 (sorry!)

Summary: While rummaging through a junk drawer, Ethan stumbles upon an old phone. He decides to charge it and take a trip down memory lane - but are some memories best left in the past?

Also participating in @choicesmonthlychallenge's May Mayhem - prompts: Regret and Confession

30-Day Challenge Masterlist | Full Masterlist

It was already dark when Ethan closed his office door, that time of day when even Edenbrook's hectic halls settled into a quiet hum. It had been a long day, and as he stepped into the elevator with his coat slung over his arm, he was relieved to leave it behind him. But just as the doors began to slide shut, a familiar voice shattered the peace.

“Ethan!”

A hand slid between the doors, forcing them open, and Dr. Tobias Carrick stepped in. Ethan sighed, not with disdain, but unmistakable annoyance. If Tobias noticed, he didn't care, as he leaned against the elevator wall with his usual swagger and a curious grin on his lips.

“Where have you been? I’ve been trying to catch you all day. I wanted to see how the date went last night.”

Ethan pressed the button for the ground floor, eager to end this conversation as quickly as he could. “It was fine,” he muttered, hoping that would suffice, even though he knew better.

“Fine?” Tobias replied with a raised brow. “That’s it?”

“Yes, it was - fine.”

Tobias shook his head. “Trina is beautiful. She’s smart, charming, she loves opera for Christ's sake. I would have gone for it myself,” he smirked, as if that result would have been a foregone conclusion, “but I hooked you up instead, because you're a perfect match, and the best you can do is... fine?”

“She’s lovely,” Ethan admitted, slipping on his coat. “But no.”

“No?” Tobias repeated. “You're really using your words today, big guy. Why, no?”

A moment of silence passed as Ethan thought of a dozen excuses he could offer, but Tobias had been his friend long enough to know when he was lying, so he decided to go with the truth.

“Because I’m still in love with someone else.”

The low humming sound of the elevator suddenly felt much louder, and Tobias placed a sympathetic hand on his friend's shoulder.

“Buddy, you know that she’s gone, right?”

A lump formed in Ethan’s throat. “Yeah,” he replied, his voice tense. “I know.”

A bell rang before the doors slid open, and the old saying ‘saved by the bell’ took on a new meaning for Ethan. “Good night, Tobias,” he said as he rushed out, leaving his sullen friend behind.

~~~~~

Several hours later, Ethan was alone in his Back Bay condo, a single log crackling in the fireplace his sole companion. He tried to unwind with a glass of Macallan in his hand and a melodic jazz ensemble playing in the background. But the night moved on at a snail's pace, just like all the years that came before it. He reached for the bottle again, a curse falling from his lips when he found it empty.

Grumbling under his breath, he made his way to the kitchen and opened a cabinet where he kept a few unopened bottles - an emergency supply for moments like this. He pulled a Glendronach he’d been saving and rifled through a nearby drawer looking for the foil cutter when his hand brushed something he couldn't place.

Curiously, he pulled the object out, then stood in silence: his old iPhone, scuffed around the edges. He hadn’t seen it in nearly a decade. He almost forgot that it existed, but apparently, he never let it go, just like so many things from his past.

He didn't know if he should do it— he knew some things were best left in the past—but compelled by something he couldn’t name, he found himself plugging in the phone and waiting patiently as the screen slowly came to life. Then, a standard-issue screensaver transported him back to another place and time.

He entered a passcode—fortunately, it was the same one he used today—and then decided to take the plunge, swiping up as old messages filled the screen like little ghosts visiting from his past.

The first one was from Naveen.

“Ethan, you’re the only one who understands how much this frightens me. Thank you for being there.”

His chest tightened, and tears prickled at his eyes despite his best efforts to stop them. But seeing their last conversations again proved to be more painful than he could have imagined. There were updates on his treatment plan, friendly advice, terrible jokes, and gratitude—so much unending, mutual gratitude. Then there was the selfie Naveen sent from his hospital bed, he was doing his best to make a silly face through the pain. His final message was just below it—a message Ethan had left unread until now.

“I’m proud of you, Ethan. I didn't say it often enough, but you brought joy to my life every day. Promise me you’ll keep moving forward. Be happy, son, because time passes faster than you think. Thank you for making my life a brighter place.”

Ethan shuddered, his eyes clenching shut, as the hollow space left in his heart after Naveen passed grew larger. There were days when Ethan truly wondered if there would be anything left but chambers left vacant by those in the past—spaces that no one else could ever fill.

He waited several moments before turning back. The following message was from his father, Alan.

Their messages were strained back then - kind, but lacking the warmth they share today. A smile spread on his face because he knew - he knew exactly who he had to thank for that. But these old messages were mostly about arguments over things that should have been long buried, with lengthy stretches of silence in between.

"So much wasted time..." he said aloud. He grabbed his current phone and sent a text at once:

“I miss you, Dad. Let’s make plans for the weekend.”

He knew Alan was already asleep, but that didn’t matter. It would be a pleasant surprise when he woke up. Then, it was back to his trip down memory lane - or self-imposed torture - it could have been either of the two.

He pulled up the next thread, and that's when his heart nearly stopped.

Kaycee.

So many years had passed since he last saw her, but time never changed how the mere sight of her name could stop his world from spinning on its axis. He scrolled up to the very first message she ever sent.

“Just testing the number. I promise I’ll only use it for emergencies. But I want you to know that I’m here if you need someone. I know tonight was hard.”

The memories flooded his mind. She sent that text the night his friend, Dolores, died at the hospital while under their care. Kaycee never left his side. He had never given his number to an intern before that, and, even then, he questioned his judgment, but Kaycee was right; it had been a hard night, and something inside him had shifted.

Only use this if you absolutely have to. He told her, but she sent that first message just a few hours later, because she knew he needed someone, even if he didn’t know it himself. Her heart was always much bigger than his rules.

He could have stopped there, but he couldn’t keep himself from reading more – all of their texts reading like a storybook of their time together. Messages from when they were clandestinely treating Naveen. His vitals, lab results, stupid jokes she sent as an attempt to cheer him up, and the embarrassing stories Naveen was all too eager to share.

“Naveen told me you fainted when you administered your first injection in med school. That can’t be true, can it?” “Remind me to talk to Naveen. He’ll need to sign an NDA if he expects me to continue treating him.” “Ha! I’d still get it out of him!”

And she’s right. She would have.

He pulled up the phone’s camera roll, knowing precisely what picture he longed to see – and there it was. Kaycee at the medical conference they attended in Miami - it seemed like a lifetime ago. He smiled as his fingers traced the image on the screen - that navy blue gown had nearly knocked him off his feet, and seeing it again brought him back.

Back to that balcony where the sound of crashing waves was so loud, you'd swear they were only a few feet away. He could taste the warm, salty air and see her emerald green eyes gazing at him with more love and adoration than he rightfully deserved.

He didn't want it to happen - but it was inevitable - and it took just one kiss for the rest of the world to fade away. It felt like every mismatched puzzle piece that made up his life was finally coming together – a cosmic event when the planets finally aligned according to a master plan – but, as quickly as it surrendered, he pulled away.

He sent her a text message the next day as he sat in the hotel room, and she traipsed around Miami, going anywhere and everywhere to escape him.

“I’m so sorry, Kaycee. You’re beautiful...brilliant. You deserve the whole world. But I was wrong last night, and I won’t let that happen again.”

“Got it."

Was all she replied - then the silence stretched for weeks.

He tried to avoid her, but somehow, it never worked. There was the text he sent her the morning after he took her to the opera in a desperate attempt to lift her spirits. The night that ended with another searing kiss in his private box – a box he never stepped into without thinking of her again – even to this day.

“Kaycee, we can’t keep doing this.”

“I know. But I don’t want to stop, Ethan, and I know you don't either. You mean so much to me... we have to find a way.”

There were dozens more texts –each more raw and honest than the next – well, at least the ones from Kaycee were. Then there was one from June that would change the trajectory of his life. Destroying him with just eight words:

“It’s confirmed. Kaycee’s in there. She was exposed.”

That night would haunt him forever. No matter how hard he tried, he could never erase the memory of kneeling awkwardly beside her, the hazmat suit crinkling with every move. He whispered the words he should have said long before, but sometimes the worst possible thing has to happen to render one's vision clear.

He told her he loved her and begged her to fight. For him-for them-she needed to stay and never leave his side again... and she listened. She survived, Ethan administering the life-saving injection the next morning, and their world changed for the better.

After, their messages were filled with all the love and passion expected from a secret love affair—a love that was beautiful, messy, and divine. It ushered in a light unlike any he had ever known.

“Have I told you how much I adore waking up in your arms?” She wrote.

“About as much as I adore having you there.”

“Promise me this will never end, " she begged. "Please, promise me this is only our beginning.”

He replied in an instant.

“Of course it is. Something this precious can never go away.”

It was real, and they were happy. So happy. They merely had to keep it quiet until her residency was over. A task that sounded far easier than it was, but they reminded each other it would be worth it... until something inside him began to change. i

“Just four more months! Then I can walk out of work with you, hand in hand, and plant the biggest kiss on your cheek! I can’t wait to let the whole world know how much I love you, Ethan!”

He didn’t reply.

Why didn’t he reply?

After that, each message began to signal the end.

“Why did you cancel our dinner on Saturday? We were supposed to talk. I really need you, Ethan. I have offers from Hopkins, UCSF, Cedars-Sinai…but they need answers soon. I want to talk to you before I decide.”

“You don’t need me to decide, Rookie. Follow your gut - it will tell you what the best move is. I’m so proud of you, Kaycee. I always knew you were going to change the world, and just look at you! You are.”

“I appreciate that, Ethan, but being proud of me isn't what I need right now."

“What do you need?”

“I need you to tell me to stay. Edenbrook gave me an offer, too. Tell me my future is here, in Boston, with YOU. I want a reason to stay.”

He shut his eyes, disgusted with himself.

Hours passed. Hours. He could just picture her, nervously biting her lip, her wavy, blonde hair tied into a messy bun above her furrowed brow as she checked her phone incessantly... waiting. How could he have let hours pass? Why would he do that to her?

Then – the worst decision he ever made – right there – saved to haunt him for all time and posterity.

“I can’t do that, Kaycee. Your future - your career needs to dictate your choice, not me. I care about you too much to stand in the way of that.”

He thought he was being noble. Putting her career and her needs before his own. At least that was the lie he repeated to himself like a mantra. But Kaycee cut through it, her reply instantaneous.

“You told me you loved me, Ethan. You said I was your world. Has that changed? Don’t you want me to stay? Please, tell me you haven't changed your mind."

He never answered.

Months passed before he received the last text she’d ever send. She was settling into her new place in LA – two thousand, five hundred miles away in an apartment he’d never see – beginning a life he’d never be part of. He was sitting in his office when it arrived – the very place they had shared so many conversations, spent late nights solving cases, and sometimes, doing much more. Now, he was by himself as he read:

“I wanted to let you know I arrived in LA and I’m settling into my new place. It’s really beautiful, but it’ll be a while before it feels like home – if it ever does at all. I’m going to do my best to move forward – it's not like I have a choice. I'll start fresh and embrace the next chapter, but it’s going to be the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. I wanted to thank you, Ethan, for everything you’ve ever done for me. You were my mentor, my sounding board, and so, so much more. You taught me to be brave and never back down from what I wanted most in life. I only wish you had been strong enough to take your own advice. I wish I could say we'll keep in touch, perhaps learn to be friends. But I can’t. Just seeing your name still breaks me inside, and the idea of hearing your voice with an entire country between us moves me to tears. You were the one for me, Ethan, I know that. And I truly believed I was the one for you. I'll never understand how we ended up here. I’m going to need space to heal, so please don’t reach out to me. Perhaps I’ll contact you one day, if I ever feel strong enough, but in case that day never comes, I need you to know that I loved you with all my heart, Ethan, and I always, always will. I wish you the best. Please remember me - Kaycee"

And he never heard from her again.

He sat in the dark for a long time, his hand shaking around the phone he clutched as if it were a lifeline. He thought about all the times he wanted to call her, and found every excuse not to.

He remembered the pain of losing, the lonely nights when it became so unbearable that he tried to lose himself in others, but no one's touch would ever feel right, and his name only belonged on her lips.

He saw her name in medical journals on occasion, sometimes a photo from a conference where she gave a keynote speech, and he was amazed at how her smile could still melt his heart. He hoped – sometimes even prayed – that she had healed, because he already accepted that he never would.

Time marched on, and with each year that passed, breaking the silence seemed harder. He hadn’t even put her number in his new phone, but Kaycee MacClennan would never be a part of his past. She lived beside him every single day. A ghost who walked through the rooms of his mind, reminding him of what his life could have been if he hadn’t been such a coward.

He finally willed himself to stand. He extinguished the fire and headed to bed, but sleep wouldn’t come. He stared at the space where she used to sleep - just like the space she had taken in his heart, it would never again be filled.

He tossed and turned for hours, then finally sat up and turned on the light. He grabbed his phone and entered her number – he didn’t need to look it up, it was committed to memory. And then, he wrote:

I never wanted you to leave Boston. I just didn’t know how to say that without feeling like I was stealing your future. I wanted to follow you to LA, but back then, I didn’t believe I deserved you. I should have told you. I can't tell you how many messages I started over the years, but I deleted every single one. The truth is, you’re the only woman I've ever loved, Kaycee. You were the one for me: then, now, and forever. I'll never stop grieving the fact that I let you go.

You don't have to write back. I don’t expect a response. I just felt you were owed the truth, even if it’s coming years too late.

I hope you found happiness, because no one deserves it more than you. Just know, I never stopped loving you, and I never will. Ethan

He hit send quickly, before he lost his nerve. He slid the phone into the nightstand, shut off the light, and clutched the pillow that should’ve been hers. Then he cried—fully, freely - letting it all out. It was something he should’ve done years ago.

~~~~~

It was a little after midnight in Los Angeles. Kaycee’s nighttime routine hadn’t changed in all these years – shower, watch Jimmy Fallon, then off to bed.

The television was dark, and she had just slipped under the covers when her phone vibrated across the room. She let out a soft groan. She should check it—it could be important—but she was exhausted. If it's urgent, they'll reach out again, she reasoned as she shifted under the comforter and closed her eyes. Sleep was all that mattered now, and the message could wait until the morning.

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