This Message Was Deleted

He sent me a message, then deleted it. I've spent four months wondering what it said.

His name was Elijah. We never said "I love you" in a relationship that lasted nine months. We said "ily" in passing, "lol love you" as a joke. We hid inside the safe words.

When he left, in January, he did it over text. A long, careful paragraph about "timing." I replied, "Okay." That was the last message.

Four weeks later, at 1:47 AM, my phone buzzed. His name. "Elijah: [message]"

By the time I unlocked the screen, it had turned grey.

"This message was deleted."

I stared at it. Stared until the words blurred. Tried everything. Notification history. Backups. A friend who knew a guy who knew a thing. Nothing.

For four months, I made up what it said. Sometimes, "I'm sorry." Sometimes, "I made a mistake." Sometimes, just "hey."

Last week, his best friend Dev got drunk at a party and said, "You know he almost told you, right? After. He wrote 'I love you' and panicked. Deleted it."

I felt the room tilt.

That night, I opened our chat. Typed it back.

"I love you too."

I looked at it for a long time. My thumb hovered.

Then I pressed send.

And, a second later, held down on the message.

Delete for everyone.

Neither of us was ever brave enough to let the other read it.