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She smiled as she sent it. Then, she sat in her car without turning it on and waited. It didn’t take long.

Bryce Wilburn: I’d like to call you Soph. Is that someone else you mentioned before also calling you Soph?

Sophie chuckled and typed.

Sophie Santiago: There is no someone else. I meant my friends or my family. No one else would be texting me how you’re texting me.

Bryce Wilburn: HowamI texting you?

Sophie laughed again and typed.

Sophie Santiago: Like you want to make out with me.

She watched the three dots pop up and bit her lower lip, hoping that message was okay.

Bryce Wilburn: I definitely want to make out with you, but I had no idea my text messages conveyed that.

Sophie Santiago: It might have been your emails, too. Oh, and there were blogs.

Bryce Wilburn: Yes, there were blogs. Three of them. And people are begging me to write more.

Sophie had read those blogs at least a hundred times, but she hadn’t thought about the fact that people might want to know what, if anything, had happened since the last one, that they might want an update on their story.

Sophie Santiago: Are you going to write more about us?

Those three dots appeared.

Bryce Wilburn: I was going to wait to see if there’s anusto update them on, but they’re pretty insistent. I have over one thousand social notifications and several hundred emails asking me for an update.

Sophie Santiago: You should tell them.

Bryce Wilburn: Yeah?

Sophie Santiago: They’re the reason we found each other again.

Bryce Wilburn: You don’t mind?

Sophie Santiago: I mean, don’t give them my number or GPS location or anything.

She laughed at her own lame joke.

Bryce Wilburn: Only I get your phone number. I’m already dealing with the pesky someone else.

Sophie laughed again. Then, she realized she was still parked in the lot at work, and people were waiting on her to leave because there was a gate that got closed after the last car every night, and, of course, it was manual because the company couldn’t spring for one that locked automatically.

Sophie Santiago: I have to go for a few minutes. I need to drive home. I’ll message you when I get there.

Bryce Wilburn: Drive safe, please. I want to see you soon.

Sophie replied that she would. Then, she reluctantly put her phone down, turned on her car, put it into reverse, and headed toward the gate. She drove through it and pulled out onto the main road, wishing she was home already because she wanted to keep texting Bryce. It was only then that she remembered her friends had requested an update over dinner that night, and while she’d rather just go home, change into her PJs, and text Bryce all night long, Jill had been the one to find Bryce for her, and she owed the woman at least a catch-up dinner.

Sophie was also exhausted and should probably not be texting all night after two nights of not sleeping well because she’d been emailing Bryce all night long. When she arrived home, she messaged her that she’d gotten there safely and added that she had to get ready for dinner with her friends. After changing into jeans and a sweater, she sat on the sofa, and they texted back and forth for twenty minutes before she had to get going. Again, she told Bryce that she had to drive, and Bryce told her to be safe. Sophie loved having someone tell her that. It had been a while since someone had worried about her like that. Having gotten to the restaurant, she texted Bryce that she was there and that she would message her later. When Bryce’s new tone came though her phone, she smiled wide.

“Oh, I bet I know who that is,” Jill noted, smirking at her from the lobby.

“Who?” Sophie teased.

“She has your digits now, huh?”