Part 6 — The Message She Never Sent
Elora stared at the screen.
The message was still there.
“Ask yourself why I wanted Kian to hate you.”
Her hands trembled.
For three years, she had believed that Kian had walked away because he no longer loved her.
She had blamed herself.
She had replayed that night countless times, wondering what she had done wrong.
But now, everything was beginning to make sense.
Someone had wanted them apart.
Someone they trusted.
Someone who had been close enough to know everything about them.
And suddenly, Elora remembered something.
The message.
The one she had typed three years ago but never sent.
She had written it on the night Kian left.
I know you probably hate me now, but please, just let me explain.
She had stared at those words for almost an hour.
Then she deleted the message.
Or at least, she thought she had.
Her heart pounded as she opened her old phone and searched through the backups.
And there it was.
The message.
But there was something else beneath it.
A second message she had never written.
A message sent from her phone that night.
“Don't contact Kian again. He knows the truth about you.”
Elora froze.
She had never sent that.
Someone else had used her phone.
Someone had wanted Kian to believe she had betrayed him.
Before she could think, her phone rang.
Kian.
She answered immediately.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“At home.”
“Don't leave.”
His voice was different.
Fearful.
“I found something,” he continued. “And I think I finally know who did it.”
Elora's breath caught.
“Who?”
There was silence.
Then Kian said the name.
The same person Elora had trusted.
The same person who had been there when everything fell apart.
The person who had comforted her after Kian left.
Her eyes filled with tears.
“No…”
“I know,” Kian whispered. “I didn't want to believe it either.”
A knock came from her door.
Elora looked up.
Three slow knocks.
Her heart stopped.
“Kian…”
“What's wrong?”
“Someone is at my door.”
“Don't open it.”
The knocking came again.
This time, a voice followed.
“Elora.”
She knew that voice.
The person behind everything was standing outside.
She stepped away from the door.
“Kian, they're here.”
“I'm coming.”
The line went silent.
Elora backed away as the door handle slowly moved.
Then she heard a voice through the door.
“You were never supposed to find out.”
Elora's eyes filled with tears.
“Why?” she asked.
Silence.
Then the answer came.
“Because Kian loved you too much. And I knew I could never have what you had.”
Everything suddenly became clear.
The lies.
The photograph.
The messages.
The misunderstanding three years ago.
It had all been planned.
Not because Elora had done anything wrong.
But because someone was jealous of what she and Kian had.
The door opened.
But before anything else could happen, Kian appeared behind them.
“It's over,” he said.
The person turned around.
Kian stood there, holding the evidence they had tried so desperately to hide.
For the first time in three years, Elora saw the same Kian she remembered.
The one who had once looked at her like she was his entire world.
He walked toward her.
“I should have listened to you,” he said.
Elora swallowed hard.
“And I should have fought harder to make you listen.”
“I thought you betrayed me.”
“I thought you stopped loving me.”
They stared at each other.
Three years of pain stood between them.
But so did three years of unanswered questions.
Kian reached for her hand.
“I never stopped loving you.”
A tear slipped down Elora's cheek.
“I never stopped waiting for you to ask.”
He pulled her into his arms.
And for the first time in three years, Elora allowed herself to cry.
Not because she was broken.
But because she finally understood.
Sometimes, the truth doesn't arrive when we want it to.
Sometimes, it takes years.
Sometimes, the message we never send becomes the message we wish we had.
Elora closed her eyes.
She remembered that old message.
The one she had typed three years ago.
I know you probably hate me now, but please, just let me explain.
She smiled through her tears.
Maybe she had never sent it because, somehow, their story wasn't finished yet.
And perhaps some messages are never meant to be sent.
Perhaps they are meant to wait.
Until the right person finally comes back to read them.
THE END.
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