The Prompt: Start a story using this sentence. She picked up the frame, touched the face in the picture and smiled.
She picked up the frame, touched the face in the picture, and smiled. It wasn't a happy smile, more like a worn smile that was trying to get past pain to remember some good times. The picture was of her and her former boyfriend Marcus sitting next to each other in a restaurant booth. A piece of birthday cake was sitting in front of him. That had been almost a year ago now. Helen put the picture back in the envelope and buried it under other papers and folder in her drawer. Burying the picture didn't marry the memories of Marcus though.
She remembered his favorite songs, his favorite food, their favorite date nights. The seven months she had known him had been the happiest she had ever had. Helen sat back on her bed and wondered if she had made a mistake. Was she wrong to break up with him?
No, she told herself. She had made the right decision. Marcus had been devoted to her but there had come a point where she felt that he had taken her for granted. He didn't call as much as he used to. He canceled their dates. Helen felt like she was the main person pushing their relationship forward, and she was tired of it. In a heated argument, she had told Marcus she wanted to stop seeing him. Her stinging words had lingered in the air, and Helen was still haunted by Marcus' face after he heard them.
She regretted saying those words when she had gotten home, but her pride prevented her from calling him. Helen reassured herself that Marcus would call back in a few days. If he really loved her like he said he did, he wouldn't let her go that easily. A week passed, then two. After a month, Helen had accepted the fact that perhaps his attachment to her hadn't been as strong she had thought.
If she could, Helen wouldn't have taken those words back. She was glad that her break-up had revealed his true feelings. Her only regret was that the truth had to hurt. A sound from her phone interrupted her thoughts. She clicked it on and checked the text message she had. Her heart pounded hard and her face felt hot when she saw the name.
"Hi Helen, I've been working up the courage to contact you for the past few weeks. I've found it impossible to get over you. Would you be willing for me to call you? I'd love to talk. Marcus."
Helen was in shock. She had been wrong about Marcus, again. Maybe she had been the problem all along. And now, by a divine miracle, she had a second chance.
She texted back, "Hi Marcus. It's great to hear from you again. I'd love to talk to you."
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