The Last Letter

Christopher stared out the window of his small apartment in New York City, watching the stream of yellow taxis and hurried pedestrians below. The city pulsed with its usual chaotic rhythm, but he felt disconnected, like he was watching it all through a pane of glass. He should have been happy. His work project—a high-profile marketing campaign for a major tech company—was going well. He was working with top-tier clients, making connections, proving himself. But none of it felt like enough.

His phone buzzed on the coffee table, snapping him out of his thoughts. Another email. Another task. Another thing to cross off the never-ending list. He ran a hand through his hair, sighing deeply, and sank onto the couch. The stress of the job was mounting. Late nights, tight deadlines, and the constant pressure to perform were taking their toll. And yet, amidst all the noise and chaos, his thoughts kept drifting back to her.

Teigen.

Without thinking, he reached for his phone and unlocked it, his fingers moving on autopilot. He pulled up her contact—Teigen—and stared at her picture, an off-guard snapshot he had taken on one of their dates. She had been mid-laugh, dimples deep, brown eyes bright, her dark curly hair framing her face in a way that made his chest tighten. Looking at her now, he felt the same ache he always did—longing, regret, love tangled with uncertainty. He just stared at her name. For a split second, he forgot they hadn’t spoken in two months. For a split second, it felt like he could just call her, hear her voice, and everything would feel right again. But reality hit him like a cold slap, and his hand froze.

They weren’t together anymore. They hadn’t been since May. And it was his fault just as much as hers.

He rubbed the back of his neck, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He missed her. God, he missed her. Her smile, her laugh, the way her eyes lit up when she talked about something she was passionate about. The way she could calm him down with just a few words. She’d been his rock, his safe place, his best friend. They fit together in a way he couldn’t explain, a way he hadn’t let himself fully admit until it was too late.

He loved her. He knew that now. He’d probably known it for a long time, but he’d been too scared to say it. Too scared to promise her the kind of future she deserved when he didn’t know if he could deliver. So he’d told her he couldn’t commit. And she’d walked away.

It was what he thought he wanted. What he thought was best. But now, sitting alone in his apartment, with nothing but the noise of the city to keep him company, he knew he’d made a mistake. A big one.

His thumb hovered over her name as memories rushed in. The nights they’d spent talking until dawn, the mornings they’d woken up tangled in each other’s arms. The way she’d tease him about his love of bagels, calling him a “typical New Yorker,” even though she’d always steal a bite. He smiled faintly at the thought, but the ache in his chest only deepened.

He opened their last conversation. Her words stared back at him, blunt and final: “I can’t keep doing this, Chris. I need more, and you can’t give that to me.” He’d tried to explain, tried to tell her he cared, but she’d already made up her mind. And deep down, he couldn’t blame her.

Still, he couldn’t shake the urge to reach out. Maybe if he said the right thing, she’d give him another chance. Maybe she missed him, too. He started typing, the words coming easily despite the knot in his stomach.

Hey, thinking of you. Hope things are going well. I miss you.

He stared at the message, his thumb hovering over the send button. His heart pounded in his chest as doubt crept in. What if she didn’t reply? What if she’d moved on? What if he was just reopening a wound she was trying to heal?

“Don’t do this,” he muttered to himself, locking the phone and tossing it onto the couch. He ran his hands over his face, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. Reaching out wouldn’t fix anything. It wouldn’t change the fact that he’d let her go, that he’d pushed her away when she needed him to step up.

But the thought of her, alone in Atlanta, starting her residency without him by her side… it gnawed at him. He’d always been her first call, her person. And now, she was doing it all without him.

Christopher exhaled slowly, closing his eyes. The city noise continued outside, unrelenting and indifferent. For now, all he could do was sit in the silence and let himself feel the weight of what he’d lost.