The Call That Never Came

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Emma sat by the window, her phone resting on the table beside her, the screen dark and silent. She traced the rim of her coffee mug with a trembling finger, her eyes fixated on the dim glow of the streetlights outside. Another day had passed, another evening had slipped away, and still—no call.

For years, she had waited. Every birthday, every holiday, every lonely Sunday evening, she had picked up the phone, hoping to hear the voice that once filled her life with warmth. The voice of her father.

He had left when she was just ten, promising he would call, promising that no matter what happened between him and her mother, he would always be there. But as the years passed, those promises faded like ink in the rain. The phone calls that started as weekly check-ins became monthly, then sporadic, until one day, they simply stopped.

Emma learned to stop expecting. She learned to smile through the disappointment, to swallow the hurt, to tell herself she didn’t need him anymore. And yet, she never changed her number. Never once did she consider blocking him, because deep down, the hope still lingered.

Maybe he would call today. Maybe he would explain, tell her he was sorry, tell her he missed her just as much as she missed him.

But today came and went, and the silence remained.

One evening, as she scrolled through old photographs on her phone, her heart clenched at a picture of her tenth birthday. She was grinning at the camera, a pink balloon in one hand and her father’s arm draped around her shoulders. She remembered that day so clearly—how he had carried her on his back, how he had promised to take her to the park the next weekend. A promise that, like so many others, was never fulfilled.

Tears blurred her vision as she set the phone down. She had spent too many years trapped in a loop of waiting and wondering. What if she let go? What if she stopped waiting for the call that would never come?

With a deep breath, she picked up her phone one last time—not to wait, but to act. She searched for his number, the digits still ingrained in her memory. Her thumb hovered over the dial button. A war waged in her mind—did she want closure, or did she want to move forward without reopening wounds?

Finally, she exhaled and hit "Delete Contact."

The weight that lifted off her chest was unexpected. She had spent years waiting for someone else to bring her peace, not realizing that she had the power to grant it to herself. Emma stood up, stretching her arms, and for the first time in years, she felt free.

The past had taken enough of her time. It was time to live for herself.

Have you ever waited for a call that never came? Share your thoughts and experiences in the comments below. 💬

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