Then he smiled that crooked smile I loved.
And I laughed through my tears.
That was Caleb.
He was always honest, even when pretending would have been easier.
Before leaving that night, he kissed my forehead.
He said he needed to go home and pick up a few things.
He promised he would call me first thing in the morning.
He never did.
By noon, my messages remained unread.
By evening, his phone went directly to voicemail.
The next morning, I drove to his apartment.
Half his closet was empty.
For months, I kept inventing explanations.
Maybe he panicked.
Maybe he needed time.
Maybe he would come back ashamed and apologize.
