Evan looked surprised.
“You already know.”
“You keep everything.”
“Yes.”
“But why that conversation?”
He looked down at the cup.
“Because I spent about six months wanting to prove to myself I had not imagined the relationship.”
Freya’s expression changed.
He continued.
“The end made no sense.”
“I kept rereading the weeks before.”
“Looking for the moment I should have understood.”
“Did you find one?”
“About fifty.”
She almost smiled.
He continued.
“I thought I had pushed you too hard.”
“You had.”
“Yes.”
“I thought you had decided my version of partnership was another responsibility.”
Freya looked toward him.
“That was close to how I felt.”
“I know.”
“How?”
“Because you told me.”
She stopped.
Another uncomfortable truth.
The fake message did not invent all conflict.
It exploited what already existed.
Evan continued.
“I deleted most of our photos after about a year.”
Freya’s heart sank.
“Why?”
“Because keeping them felt like waiting.”
“Were you?”
“For a while.”
“Then?”
“I stopped.”
Good.
Painful.
Necessary.
“What about the message backup?”
“I forgot it existed until I transferred old phone data to a hard drive.”
“Why was it on your current phone?”
“I restored archived conversations last year looking for a contractor address.”
Freya stared.
“So you did not keep my breakup text in a shrine.”
He laughed.
“No.”
“Disappointing.”
“Sorry.”
She smiled.
The conversation became easier.
Then harder.
They talked about Seattle.
What Freya had given up.
The fellowship.
She never reapplied.
Why?
Martin.
Work.
Fear.
Maybe because moving afterward felt like validating Tessa’s accusation.
That realization made Freya furious all over again.
“She still affected the choice.”
Evan nodded.
“Yes.”
“Even after I didn’t know.”
“Yes.”
Freya stared at him.
“I hate that.”
“I know.”
“You say that too much.”
“I know.”
She threw a napkin at him.
He laughed.
For a moment they were twenty-nine again.
Then not.
Freya asked about Rachel.
Evan answered honestly.
No unnecessary detail.
Rachel was a landscape architect.
They met in Seattle.
Good relationship.
Wrong ending.
No villain.
Freya appreciated that.
Then Evan asked:
“Did you date?”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“That is rude.”
“You asked me.”
“One serious enough to meet Dad.”
His face changed.
“Who?”
“Sam.”
“What happened?”
“He wanted children immediately.”
“You?”
“I did not know.”
“And?”
“He needed someone who knew.”
Fair.
Evan nodded.
“Anyone now?”
“No.”
She looked at him.
“You?”
“No.”
Silence.
Then Evan said: