The Man Who Texted Me

I stared at the message for a good minute.

It’s about Vanessa.

Who the hell was this guy, and why was he contacting me about a woman I hadn’t seen in months?

My first instinct was to call Vanessa. My second was to mind my own business.

For once, the second instinct won.

I typed back.

Me: Who is this?

The reply came almost immediately.

Unknown: Brian. I’m the guy Vanessa is seeing.

I leaned back on the couch.

Well, this should be interesting.

Me: Okay, Brian. What’s up?

Brian: I’d rather explain in person. Can we meet tomorrow?

I almost laughed. A man I’d never met wanted to discuss a woman I’d once been involved with. On a normal day, I’d have ignored him.

But Vanessa had been acting strangely since she came back into my life, and curiosity has always been one of my weaknesses.

Me: Where?

We agreed to meet at a café in Kilimani the following afternoon.

I put my phone down and went back to whatever I had been doing, although my mind had already started inventing possibilities.

Maybe he was jealous.

Maybe Vanessa had told him something about us.

Or maybe I was about to discover that I’d walked into a mess without even taking my shoes off.

Knowing my luck, it was probably the last one.

Brian arrived before me.

He was smartly dressed, looked to be around my age, and had the composed demeanour of someone who had rehearsed what he wanted to say.

We exchanged greetings and ordered coffee.

For a moment, neither of us spoke.

Then he got straight to it.

“I know you and Vanessa have history.”

I stirred my coffee.

“History is a strong word. We knew each other, spent some time together, and eventually went our separate ways.”

“Did she tell you why?”

I looked up.

“Why we stopped seeing each other?”

He nodded.

“No. We just stopped talking. Life happened.”

Brian studied me for a moment.

“That’s interesting.”

I didn’t like the way he said that.

“What’s interesting about it?”

He took a sip of his coffee.

“Vanessa has a way of walking away from things without explaining herself. Sometimes she does it because she’s hurt. Sometimes because she doesn’t know how to deal with what’s happening.”

I put my cup down.

“Look, Brian. I don’t know what’s going on between you two, but if you’ve got a problem with Vanessa, shouldn’t you be talking to her?”

“I have.”

“And?”

He sighed.

“And she keeps telling me she’s fine.”

I almost smiled.

That sounded familiar. People could be falling apart inside and still insist everything was okay.

“So what do you want from me?”

“Honestly? I wanted to know what kind of man you are.”

I laughed.

“You called me here to interview me?”

“Something like that.”

“Then I hope you’ve got a better set of questions.”

For the first time, Brian smiled.

“I can see why she remembers you.”

That caught my attention.

Remembers me?

Before I could ask what he meant, he continued.

“She mentioned you before we got together. Not in great detail, but enough for me to know you mattered to her.”

I sat back.

That was news to me.

Vanessa and I had never made grand declarations about what we were to each other. We’d enjoyed our time together, and when it ended, I assumed we were both happy to move on.

Apparently, I hadn’t been the only one who remembered it differently.

Brian glanced at his phone.

“There’s something else you should know. Vanessa hasn’t told you the whole story about why we’re not happy.”

I waited.

He seemed to be choosing his words carefully.

“Before Vanessa and I got together, there was a period when she was going through something difficult. Something she didn’t really talk about. I thought I’d helped her move past it, but lately, I think she’s been struggling with it again.”

“What happened?”

“I don’t know everything myself.”

That surprised me.

“You’re dating her, but you don’t know?”

“Knowing someone doesn’t mean they tell you everything, Max.”

Fair point.

He leaned forward.

“I think she came back to you because you knew her before all that happened. Before she started pretending she had everything figured out.”

I thought about the garage. The way she’d gone quiet over her coffee. The way she’d said she needed someone who already knew her.

Maybe there was more to it than I’d assumed.

“Why are you telling me this?” I asked.

Brian looked me straight in the eye.

“Because I think she’s trying to tell you something she can’t tell me.”

I shook my head.

“Then she should tell me herself.”

“I agree.”

He paused.

“But I think she’s hoping you’ll ask.”

That was the part I couldn’t make sense of.

If Vanessa wanted to tell me something, why not just say it? Why involve Brian? Why send me messages, pull me into conversations and leave me guessing?

Unless she wasn’t simply looking for someone familiar.

Unless she wanted something from me.

And hadn’t quite figured out how to ask for it.

We finished our coffee shortly afterwards. Brian thanked me for meeting him, and we went our separate ways.

I sat in my car for a few minutes before starting the engine.

I had gone into that meeting expecting a jealous boyfriend, maybe a few uncomfortable questions about my past with Vanessa.

Instead, I’d left with more questions than answers.

That evening, Vanessa called.

I let it ring twice before picking up.

“Hey, stranger.”

“Hey, Max.”

Her voice sounded different. Quieter than usual.

“So,” I said, “Brian seems like an interesting guy.”

Silence.

Then she sighed.

“He contacted you?”

“He did.”

“I’m sorry.”

I frowned.

“Why are you apologizing?”

She took a breath.

“Because I knew he might.”

I sat up straighter.

“Wait. You knew?”

“Not exactly. I told him about you. I told him you’d been there for me once, before things got complicated.”

I rubbed my forehead.

“Vanessa, what is going on?”

“I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Then talk.”

Another pause.

“It’s not that simple.”

I was beginning to hate that sentence.

She explained that there had been a difficult period in her life before she started seeing Brian. Something had happened that changed how she approached relationships and how much she trusted people. She wasn’t ready to explain all of it over the phone.

But she wanted me to understand that her return wasn’t random.

“I didn’t come back because I wanted to mess with your head, Max.”

“Then why did you?”

Her voice softened.

“Because I remembered who I was when I was around you. Before everything became complicated.”

I didn’t know what to say to that.

Part of me wanted to believe her. Another part wondered whether I was being pulled into a situation that had nothing to do with me.

“Vanessa, I’m not going to get caught between you and Brian.”

“I know.”

“And I’m not going to be somebody’s escape route.”

“I know that too.”

“Then what do you want from me?”

She went quiet.

For a moment, I thought the call had dropped.

Then she spoke.

“I want to tell you what happened that year. The real reason I disappeared from your life.”

I stared at the wall.

There it was.

The missing piece.

“When?” I asked.

“Can we meet tomorrow?”

I hesitated.

I should have said no. I had work, responsibilities, and absolutely no reason to get involved in somebody else’s relationship complications.

But Vanessa wasn’t asking me to take her side.

Not yet.

She was asking me to hear her out.

“Fine,” I said. “Tomorrow. But no games.”

“I promise.”

We hung up.

I placed my phone on the table and stared at it.

Something told me Vanessa hadn’t come back into my life just because she missed an old friend.

And something told me Brian knew more than he was letting on.

Tomorrow, I’d finally hear Vanessa’s side of the story.

Whether I was ready for it or not.

To be continued…