Connected Devices

My router still lists her phone. "Nadia's iPhone. Connected."

I know it's weird. I know I should've removed her from the Wi-Fi months ago. But deleting her from the list felt like admitting she wasn't coming back. So I kept it. Another ghost in my router. Next to the printer I never use and my smart bulb named "Lamp 2."

Her name was Nadia. We'd lived together for a year. Her phone hopped on the Wi-Fi the second she walked through the door. I never noticed it then. Now I notice everything.

It was a Tuesday night, 11:42 PM. I was on the sofa, half-watching a documentary about octopuses, when my laptop pinged. A notification from the router app. "New device connected: Nadia's iPhone."

I sat bolt upright.

It had been six months. Six months of silence.

I checked again. Still connected. Which meant she had to be close. Within thirty metres. Wi-Fi range.

I ran to the window. Looked out at the street. Rain. Streetlight. A parked car I didn't recognise. Engine off. Interior dark.

I stood there for what felt like an hour. Didn't open the door. Didn't wave. Didn't text.

I just watched the little green light on the router.

Eight minutes. That's how long it stayed.

Then, quietly, the notification changed. "Nadia's iPhone: Disconnected."

The car's headlights flickered on. And pulled away.

She'd come all the way here.

And only borrowed my Wi-Fi.