I Promise

Mia sat alone at the kitchen table. She buried her head into her hands as she waited. Three candles stood solitary on the kitchen table, their flicking lights illuminating the delicate curls that Mia spent an entire afternoon preparing, and which fell in a messy tousle in front of her face now. The food on the table had gone cold hours ago, but it still laid there, as if waiting for something —someone. The faint hum of the fridge played with Mia’s nerves. The clock clicked. Just another 3 minutes, and the clock will strike twelve, thought Mia. Then there won’t be any excuses that he forgot my birthday. He still has 3 minutes.

The phone on the desk remained dark. No notifications from anyone. Mia tapped the screen impatiently.

23:57.

Mia stood up and walked to the bathroom mirror. She looked at it, and was horrified to find what looked like a madwoman staring back at her. Her hair was a halo of chaos, and her mascara had smudged. It took her a hot minute to realize that this madwoman was herself. Frustrated, she scrubbed at the mascara and managed to get all of it off, but still took some foundation with it. She picked up a comb and tried to get all the knots out of her hair. To no avail, of course. “Oh, come on,” cried Mia under her breath. Beat up, she took her phone out again and looked at the time.

23:59.

Just one more minute until it is no longer my birthday. Mia set the phone down and just stared into black emptiness of what used to be her vibrant eyes.

Suddenly, the phone vibrated. It was a message. Mia immediately reached for it, her brain a whirl of thoughts that zapped her in a split second —hope, excitement, relief. It was like the first power signal given to a broken toy after it was discarded for over a decade— a rejuvenation long awaited.

The screen read:Nothing beats a Jet 2 holiday! Right now, you can save 50 pounds per person! That is 200 pounds for a family of 4. What are you waiting for? Click here to claim that discount!

A faint smile spread across Mia’s face. She closed her eyes and scoffed. A silent tear rolled down her face as her heart sank.

00:00. He forgot.

Not giving up, Mia walked over to the kitchen table and opened the contact that she saved as: BABE <3

Her hand hovered above the call button, hesitant. But in the end, she pressed it.

The phone rang twice. Seconds became centuries. The clock on the wall clicked, and with each passing moment her heart sank deeper. Hope decayed with each ring, and the truth hurts. He didn’t pick up.

The person you are calling is not available. Please leave a message after the tone.

Beep—–

Mia sighed, her face expressionless. Surprisingly, she didn’t feel much pain. Her heart didn’t ache as it used to when he forgot her birthday. Her mind was eerily serene, as if everything was destined to be, as if hope itself was a cloud of illusion before an upcoming disaster. She hanged up the phone and set it aside as she sat down and buried her face into her hands once more.

Just then the phone rang. It was from BABE<3.

“Hello?” said Mia, calmly.

“Mia, hey. I’m really sorry. I got caught up with um, some of my friends. You know them, right? Um, Jack and, uh, a couple other guys. What’s wrong? You called me?”

Silence.

“Mia? Hello?”

“You promised you would remember, Justin,” came Mia’s cold voice.

“Remember what?”

Mia scoffed. “My birthday.”

“Oh!! Right. Sorry babe, I’ll make it up to you tomorrow. I promise.”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yah, yah. I’ll swing by the flower shop tomorrow on my way home. I’ll give you a big bag of chocolate too. I’ll even write a card that says, um, ‘July 26, Happy Birthday Mia’ or something like that. Does that sound good to you darling?”

“My birthday is July 25.” Mia’s voice was soft, dangerously soft.

There was no reply from the other end, and the humming of the fridge was curiously louder than it ever was in that silence of a minute.

“Mia…I’m sorry. I was just too busy with work.”

The silence continued.

“You promised you would remember, Justin,” whispered Mia, her voice barely audible. “You have promised me enough things for me to understand that they are always broken. I am no fool, Justin. Don’t take me as one.”

Mia hanged up the phone before Justin could speak another word. She stared into the candle light, deep in thought.

***

Mia’s mind started to play the memories like a record player, piece by piece, word by word. She remembered the first time they met. Justin’s light green eyes met hers, and he bought her a drink at the bar. His eyes were beautiful, and they glittered brighter than the disco ball on the ceiling. His warm smile brought the sun’s radiance to shame, and his gentility parallels those of upper-class elites. Mia was captivated by that warm smile and bright eyes, and for the first time in two years, she gave her number to a guy. He promised to text. The next morning, she did in fact receive a text from him, and from then on, they started talking.

They often hiked together and watched the sun set when they reached the summit. Mia remembered the first time they kissed on a mountain. Birds chirped and the sunset casted a golden hue on the already blond boy. His hair fell haphazardly over his face. He placed his arms on the ground behind him and he looked over, his entire being relaxed and at ease. But nothing compared to his smile and his eyes. They are bright like candles in a dark room, sparkling like fireflies in the sky, and gentle like a blanket in December. They leaned closer and kissed. That day onwards, he promised to go hiking with her every weekend.

Mia sighed, realizing that the last time they hiked was five months ago. Her backpack and tent were still in the closet somewhere, collecting dust. There were too many things he promised and not enough that he fulfilled.

It was a rainy evening and Justin promised to pick Mia up at 6, after her shift ended. The rain was pouring and Mia didn’t bring her umbrella. Justin didn’t show up until 8, two hours after her shift ended. Mia remembered him pulling up with his car window rolled down, blasting some rock music that she doesn’t even remember him liking.

“Sorry babe, traffic was hell out there,” he said with a smile.

Mia tried to smile. “But you said—”

“I know, I know. But I’m here right now, right?” He pulls her into the car. “I’ll be more on time next time, I promise.”

Rainy days came and went, and Justin’s red Porsche never appeared under Mia’s office building ever again. Talk about being on time when he doesn’t even show up, thought Mia.

Another broken promise.

The last straw was when it came to birthdays. They had been together for 3 years, and he didn’t even remember it once. Ironic, isn’t it? A 3-year relationship that ends with the significant other forgetting the other’s birthday not once, but thrice. Every single time, it was: “sorry, work was busy.” Or “Babe, you know how it is with the boys.” Or “sorry, very important meeting today, can’t talk”. And every time Mia confronted him, it was always, “I promise I will do better next time”.

“A better next time” never came and disappointment becomes a surprisingly better promise keeper than Justin when it comes to remembrance. At least he always comes, when Justin forgets.

The dates never mattered to Mia. What mattered was the feeling that she always came second: to the job, to his friends, to whatever else had his attention that week.

But she had endured. She had been patient. She had waited — for three years.

She waited for him to grow up.

She waited for him to remember.

She waited for love to look like it did in the beginning.

She set reminders on his phone. Dropped hints. Sent countdowns. She put sticky notes on the fridge.

Still, he “promised he would remember next time”.

This year, the third consecutive year in a row, hope didn’t even try to be present. Just three cold candles, a cold meal, and a colder phone screen. The only thing warm was the tear on her cheek, and even that was temporary.

Mia didn’t sob, scream or yell. Tears rolled down her cheeks silently. It wasn’t like something inside her snapped; it was more like something inside her crumpled, like something she really valued kept decaying until it remained nothing more than a pile of ashes.

Mia sighed, and then she chuckled. Maybe she was the fool here: a fool for thinking he would keep his promises, a fool for thinking he would remember, a fool for thinking that one day the person knocking on the front door would be Justin instead of disappointment.

Mia chuckled softly to herself, turned her eyes away from the candles, and turned on the phone. She has made a decision, and she’s going to follow through with it.

Are you sure you want to delete contact? This action cannot be undone.

Yes. I am sure.