Sophia's presence brought warmth into Jeff's life, but it was a warmth that he couldn't fully embrace. His guilt over Evelyn's disappearance clung to him like a second skin, and the more he tried to suppress it, the stronger it grew.
The city of San Jose, once a symbol of possibility, now felt like a labyrinth of memories. Every street seemed to whisper Evelyn's name. The weight of her absence bore down on him, twisting his perception of the world around him.
One afternoon, as Jeff walked through the park where he and Evelyn had spent countless Sundays, he thought he saw her. A figure with dark hair and a familiar gait stood by the fountain, her back to him. His heart raced as he approached, but when the woman turned, it wasn't Evelyn.
"Are you okay?" the stranger asked, her brow furrowed with concern.
Jeff mumbled an apology and walked away, his hands trembling. The incident left him shaken, and the rest of the day passed in a haze of unease.
That night, the dreams began again. He saw Evelyn standing in their old apartment, her eyes filled with accusation.
"Why didn't you stop me?" she whispered, her voice echoing in the emptiness.
Jeff woke in a cold sweat, the image of her face burned into his mind. He spent the rest of the night staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep.
Sophia noticed the change in him.
"You've been distant lately," she said one evening as they sat on her couch. "Is it… something I did?"
"No," Jeff said quickly, shaking his head. "It's not you. It's just " He hesitated, struggling to find the words. "There's a lot I haven't dealt with."
Sophia reached for his hand. "I don't need to know everything right now, but I need to know you're trying. Otherwise…" Her voice trailed off, the unspoken threat of an ending hanging in the air.
"I am," Jeff said, his voice barely above a whisper. "I promise."
Determined to keep that promise, Jeff began seeing a therapist. At first, the sessions were awkward, his answers clipped and guarded. But over time, he started to open up about Evelyn, their tumultuous relationship, and the guilt that had consumed him since her disappearance.
"She was everything to me," Jeff admitted during one session. "Even when she left, I couldn't stop loving her. But when she came back… I couldn't forget what she did. It was like I loved her and hated her at the same time."
"And now that she's gone?" the therapist asked gently.
Jeff swallowed hard. "Now I don't know how to feel. I don't know if I did enough to save her. Or if I'm the reason she's gone."
As the weeks passed, the sessions helped Jeff begin to untangle his emotions. But the relief was fleeting. Strange things began happening that made him question his sanity.
One evening, he returned to his apartment to find the engagement photo of him and Evelyn face down on the table. He could have sworn he hadn't touched it. Another night, he heard faint footsteps in the hallway, but when he checked, no one was there.
He chalked it up to stress and exhaustion, but the incidents left him uneasy.
One particularly foggy morning, Jeff was driving to work when he thought he saw Evelyn standing on the side of the road. He slammed on the brakes, causing the car behind him to honk loudly.
By the time he looked again, she was gone.
Later that day, Sophia called him at work. "Jeff, are you okay?" she asked, her voice filled with concern.
"Why?" he asked, his stomach tightening.
"I got a call from Cara," Sophia said hesitantly. "She said the police are reopening Evelyn's case. Apparently, there's new evidence."
Jeff felt the blood drain from his face. "What evidence?"
"She didn't say," Sophia replied. "But Jeff… are you sure there's nothing you haven't told me?"
That night, Jeff couldn't sleep. He sat in his apartment, staring at the engagement photo, as the walls seemed to close in around him. Memories of Evelyn flooded his mind their first date, their fights, the night she left for Ryan, and the night she came back.
He poured himself a drink, trying to drown the memories, but they wouldn't go away. The city outside seemed eerily quiet, the silence amplifying his guilt.
And then, in the middle of the night, his phone buzzed with a text message.
It was from an unknown number.
The message read: "You know what you did."