Then, a catastrophe happened. As quickly as he had appeared in her life, the man disappeared. He sold his house for two-pence and ran away.
What had she done wrong? Why did they all leave her?
Sonya was lost in her thoughts when the phone rang. It was the guy.
“You still didn’t learn the lesson, did you?”
She hung up, furious. She hung up the phone. She hung up her life, her job, her family; she hung up on everyone and everything.
When she turned the TV on, her face was on the news again and not for the best of reasons, not for being the courageous woman who overcame pain and abandonment. She was on the news for being the silly old bat that would never learn her lesson.
She grabbed her dogs, got in the car and drove away. No one ever heard of her again.
Each year that went by, the ex-friends and boyfriends and contacts, real and virtual, got together at the Electric Chair Café. They told Sonya’s story over and over again, and laugh, as they did many years ago.
No one would mention Sonya again in the media, except for that one time when they did a special on online relationships and the dangers of believing that there is happiness right around the corner. The title was “Sonya Electrified”. It wasn’t the most original or refined of titles, one must admit, however the message was there, for everyone to see, forever and ever, as it happens with each footprint we leave online.
As to the unnamed guy, the one Sonya considered a good friend, he shall remain unnamed. He was just a shadow.
“I wish I could take that back,” he mumbled, sneering. “Well, not really.”
When he sold the Café, he added a notch to his favorite table. No one ever noticed those notches. He was retiring. Mary, Louise, Anne, Theresa, so many. He couldn’t remember them all. And now Sonya. She was the jewel in his crown, the last to be broken. He’d remember her for a long time; perhaps he’d even include her in his upcoming book, he thought, closing his laptop. Who knows?