It had been over nine months since she had bought a burner phone. Nine months since she'd done anything remotely on the down low. She'd been obsessing about how to handle this for days. Weeks. She'd seen the date coming and known that she needed, no wanted, to acknowledge it. She didn't want to call. She couldn't hear his voice, even on voicemail, and stay strong, but she did want to let him know… What exactly was she planning on telling him? Would he call back? Would he even know that it was her? Maybe he'd think it was a wrong number. A text gone wrong. Or some random girl who he'd given his number. She'd risk it, though. She wasn't really doing this for him (Yes she was.) but there was no way that she'd get through the day without contacting him in some way. She had already become just like all the other women in his life and left him. She needed him to know that she was thinking about him.

She finally settled on simple. No punctuation, no happy faces.

Happy Birthday

I miss you

She thought about ditching the phone right away, but something inside her needed to see if he'd respond. Instead she powered it down and shoved it into the bottom of her messenger bag and walked into her class. It was her long day, three classes and a photography assignment for the school newspaper at a women's soccer game versus Cal State Long Beach. It wasn't until almost nine hours later that she let herself check the phone.

As soon as she powered it up, she saw that he'd responded.

I miss you too.

And so it began. On dates that were eventful in their lives, they'd exchange a few lines of text. On her birthday, the text was the same as hers was on his. It came from an unknown number to her regular phone but she'd known it was him, just as he'd known it was her.

Happy Birthday

I miss you

I miss you too

On the fifth anniversary of Lilly's death, she sent him a photo of a bottle of champagne in the sand on a beach. He responded in kind a few minutes later with a photo of a silly shot glass and a bottle of scotch.

And so it went, birthdays, Christmas, Lilly's death date, a photo now and then but usually one or two sentences. Both seemed to understand that talking wasn't allowed, but the need to share life events with someone who had been a part of their lives for so long was there. The need for that tentative connection was strong and, at least for Veronica, helped to stem her guilt about leaving. She still considered it the best decision at the time. She had cost so many people so much. Wallace, her dad, Mac, Logan. All of them had been hurt or placed in danger by her need for justice. They did it out of love for her, she knew, but she couldn't live with another loved one dying or hurting because of her.

Even during the time in Sophomore and Junior years of high school when they were enemies, he had been there. She could see him, even if it was to glare at or verbally spar with. Same with Senior year when they were working together, but hurt feelings were there on both sides. Even after their last, final breakup, she'd still be able to see him on campus. Since she'd left Hearst, the number of times she'd turned to tell him something or picked up the phone to call him about something ludacris she'd seen were innumerable. These small texts on important days were a small comfort to the ache, now dulled by time and distance.

The day she graduated Stanford she sent him a picture of her cap and gown from her regular phone instead of the burner phone. He responded fifteen minutes later.

Congratulations.

And then he included a picture of his own cap and gown. She smiled. Proud of him for finishing something that he'd never really wanted to begin with. She'd had to convince him to go with her to Hearst in the first place. At least she could feel that she'd been some kind of positive for him.

You too.

Veronica, Mac and Wallace met in Santa Barbara to celebrate their college graduation. Veronica still hadn't been back to Neptune for more than a weekend to see her dad at the holidays and the three friends wanted to catch up. They went on a vineyard trek complete with a limo (Wallace had suggested the biking tour, but Veronica and Mac had just stared at him.)to take them to various wineries. She was feeling pretty tipsy when she felt her phone vibrate.

It was a beautiful picture of a sunrise with palm trees and surfers in the background. It had to be Hawaii. She quickly took a picture of her wine glass with Mac and Wallace in the background. They were sitting on a patio outside their third vineyard.

What did I tell you at Alterna-prom?

Veronica stared at her phone. This was not the norm. They didn't go back and forth or ask deep questions. Especially not questions like that. But the question triggered her near perfect memory of that conversation. The song in the background, the smell of booze and sweat and pheremones, the way his eyes had stared into hers so intensely.

She also had a near perfect memory of the morning after. Her nerves and how hard it had been to knock, the way he'd leaned against the door. How It had been such a blow to know that he could say such powerfully beautiful things to her and then turn around and fuck someone else. It had fed directly into her insecurities when it came to their physical relationship and had definitely been one of the reasons she had reacted so strongly to finding out it had been Madison (Lucifer) he had slept with when they were broken up Freshman year at Hearst. It had been their undoing. Her knee jerk reaction to run from her problems and his to try to fuck them away.

She glanced at Wallace and Mac, deep in a conversation about some guy Parker had been dating for a year and how long it would take them to get engaged. She walked a little down a path that led to some grape vines and sat on a bench there.

That we were Epic.

Ding. She quickly silenced her phone and glanced around. Was she really tipsy enough for this unspoken conversation?

Epic how? She laughed. Yep. That was the script. It had been her line, though.

Spanning years and continents. Lives ruined, bloodshed. EPIC.She sighed over the words as she typed them. They still tore at her heart.

Wow. I'm good.

She laughed and then looked up as Wallace called her name. She dropped her phone into her purse and walked over to him and climbed into the limo for the next stop on their tour. The following morning she woke up and tiptoed over to her stuff trying not to wake Mac and Wallace. She she swiped her phone on, she saw he'd texted her again.

I'm sorry.

She smiled sadly and typed even though she knew it was super early morning in Hawaii.

Me too.

When he joined the Navy he sent her a picture of his enlistment papers. She desperately wanted to call him to find out the story, but didn't. The next time she sent him a picture (her tiny apartment window in New York) it took him two weeks to respond.

No cells at OCS, Nice view.

After that, things got hectic for her and evidently for him too. The texts lessened in frequency to birthdays and Lilly again. Law school was demanding and so was the Navy. He usually texted her before he went on deployment so that she'd know that he wouldn't get her texts. He always included his email in the text so she had a way to get something to him if she needed to. She'd only used it once- when Backup had died at a lovely old age of fourteen.

It had been nine years when she was standing in Piz's work office and saw the news about Bonnie Deville/ Carrie Bishop. Nine years since she'd seen or spoken to Logan. They'd never once called to talk. It was the Unspoken Rule. But she wanted to call him. To help him. To tell him she knew that he'd never hurt anyone like that. That she was finally able to trust herself that the faith she had in him was real.

When her phone rang, she stared at it and instinctively hit the ignore button since she was sitting in a law office waiting for her second interview.

When he called again immediately, she got up and walked to a hallway and took a deep breath.

"So, What's new with you?" She said for lack of any other greeting.

"I need your help, Veronica." Came the voice she hadn't heard in nine years. He sounded the same. She had unknowingly been reading all of his texts with his voice in her head for all these years.

"I… Don't really do that anymore." She said, thinking fast about if she'd be able to get a flight to Neptune tonight or if she'd have to wait until tomorrow.

"Just hear me out."