One folder was simply labeled Drafts.
Hundreds of messages.
Most were unfinished.
But trust had already been broken.
One subject line stopped me cold.
Ashley’s Fellowship Application
The attachment opened instantly.
It was my application.
Completed.
Submitted.
Three days after I’d decided not to send it.
It was my application.
The submission confirmation had gone to my own inbox.
Matthew must have used my email account from his laptop, sent the application himself, and left the message there for me to find.
At the time, I’d assumed I’d submitted it in a last-minute burst of courage and barely remembered doing it because I’d been so overwhelmed.
Now I knew the truth.
I hadn’t pressed “Submit.”
Matthew had.
I hadn’t pressed “Submit.”
I stared at the screen until the words blurred.
“No…” I whispered. “There has to be another explanation.”
There wasn’t.
