ECHO OF LOVE

Eliza traced the rim of her coffee mug, the ceramic warm against her cold fingers. The cafe buzzed around her, a symphony of clattering cups, hushed conversations, and the rhythmic whir of the espresso machine. But all she heard was him.

It had been six months since the accident. Six months since the laughter that used to fill her small apartment had been replaced by a hollow echo. Six months since she had last heard Liam's voice.

Her phone lay face down on the table. She hadn't dared to listen to the old voicemails in weeks. It was too much, a concentrated shot of what she had lost. But today…today felt different.

A sudden downpour hammered against the window, mirroring the storm within her. She picked up the phone, her hand trembling slightly. The list of voicemails stared back at her, a digital graveyard of memories. She scrolled, her thumb hovering over the one labeled "Liam - 03/14/25." Valentine's Day. He'd called to tell her he was running late, promising a night of bad movies and even worse takeout.

Taking a deep breath, she pressed play.

The everyday sounds of his life crackled through the speaker: the faint blare of a car horn, the shuffling of papers. Then, his voice.

"Hey beautiful, it's me. Sorry I'm running a little behind, there's been an accident on the highway. But don't worry, I'll be there as soon as I can. I'm thinking we should order that awful pizza you love, the one with the pineapple. Deal? Also, I love you. See you soon."

The last two words echoed in the small cafe, amplified in her mind. I love you. See you soon.

Tears streamed down Eliza's face, blurring her vision. It wasn't just the words themselves, but the inflection, the warmth, the him-ness of it all. It was like he was right there, beside her, teasing her about her questionable taste in pizza and showering her with affection.

She closed her eyes, letting the sound of his voice wash over her, a momentary reprieve from the crushing weight of grief. It hurt, God did it hurt. But it was also a reminder of the joy that had existed, the love that still existed, even if only in the memory of his voice.When the voicemail ended, Eliza didn't press replay. Instead, she carefully tucked her phone back into her bag, a fragile smile gracing her lips. The storm outside had begun to subside, and a sliver of sunlight peeked through the clouds. She knew the pain wouldn't vanish, but perhaps, just perhaps, she could carry this memory, this echo of his voice, forward with her.