MY BOYFRIEND LEFT HIS PHONE IN MY CAR AND A TEXT CAME THROUGH
His car keys landed on the counter with a loud clatter, making me jump. He muttered something about being late and was gone before I could even ask about dinner. I grabbed the keys, needing to move, and saw his phone still sitting on the passenger seat where he’d clearly forgotten it. It was dark outside now, the car felt cold and damp. A notification flashed on the screen, bright white in the dim car light.
My heart pounded hard against my ribs, a frantic drumbeat I couldn’t silence. It was from a number I didn’t recognize, just a name: “Sarah.” The preview showed just a few words, enough to make the air leave my lungs in a gasp. I scrolled slightly, seeing more of the thread pop up quickly.
It read: “He’s on his way, make sure Kevin doesn’t see it.” And the text just before that: “Did you get the box?” Kevin. That was my brother. Why would *he* not see something? What was “it”? What box? My hands started to tremble violently, the phone almost slipping from my grasp.
I tried to breathe, the fabric of my jacket scratching my neck as I leaned my head back against the headrest. This felt like something out of a movie, a bad one I didn’t want to be in. I thought about everything he’d been cagey about lately, the late nights he couldn’t explain, the hushed phone calls ending quickly when I walked in.
I finally tapped to open the full message thread when I heard the front door unlock quietly.
👇 *Full story continued in the comments…*I slammed the phone down onto the passenger seat just as the driver’s door opened. My boyfriend slid in, looking sheepish. “Hey, sorry about that,” he started, then stopped, taking in my wide eyes and the phone face-up on the seat. “What’s up? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
I couldn’t speak, the air still thick in my lungs. My hand reached for the phone instinctively, a protective, guilty gesture.
He followed my gaze to the screen, where the notification for Sarah’s text was still visible. His eyes widened slightly in understanding, or maybe panic. He ran a hand through his hair, a nervous habit. “Oh. You saw that?”
My voice was a tight whisper. “Sarah? Kevin? A box? What is going on?”
He hesitated, then let out a long, slow breath, the tension visibly draining from his shoulders, replaced by something that looked like resignation… and maybe a little annoyance, but not guilt. “Right. Okay. Look, can we go inside? It’s freezing out here.”
He didn’t grab the phone. That struck me. He left it there. He wasn’t snatching it away or acting defensive in the way I’d expected.
Inside, the apartment was warm, but the heat didn’t thaw the knot in my stomach. He sat on the couch, looking weary. I stood opposite him, arms crossed, waiting.
“Okay,” he started, “It’s… complicated. Or, it was *meant* to be simple. That was Sarah, Kevin’s friend.”
“I know who Sarah is,” I snapped, impatience overriding my fear. “Why is she texting you about Kevin not seeing something? What is ‘it’? What box?”
He sighed again, a bigger one this time. “We were… we *are* planning something. For you.”
My brow furrowed. “For me?”
“Yeah. For your birthday next week. Kevin’s helping. Sarah’s helping. They know this guy who restores vintage arcade machines, and you kept mentioning how much you loved that old Pac-Man cabinet at the bar downtown.”
My mouth fell open slightly. A vintage arcade machine? That was… completely unexpected. It was something I’d mentioned offhand months ago, a nostalgic wish.
“The box?” I prompted, still trying to connect the dots.
“Right. The guy finished the restoration early. It’s huge. Kevin picked it up today in his truck. He was bringing it over to store it in his garage – yours is too small and you’d definitely see it. Sarah was just messaging me to tell me Kevin was on his way and to make sure he was super careful hiding it when he pulled up, because he knew you were home and might look out the window.”
“And ‘Kevin doesn’t see it’?”
“That was a typo,” he said, a small smile finally touching his lips. “She meant ‘make sure *she* doesn’t see it’. She corrected it right after that message, but you probably only saw the preview.”
I felt a wave of dizzying relief wash over me, so strong it almost made my knees buckle. The tight knot in my stomach dissolved, leaving behind a faint tremor. The hushed calls, the late nights… they were logistics. Coordinating with Kevin and Sarah, figuring out how to pick up and hide a giant arcade machine.
“So… all this time…” I trailed off, feeling foolish for the dark scenarios I’d conjured.
He got up and came over to me, taking my hands. “I know. I’m sorry. I should have just told you I was planning a surprise, even if I couldn’t say what. But I wanted it to be a complete shock. And honestly, trying to coordinate hiding a refrigerator-sized gift has been way more stressful than I expected.”
He pulled me into a hug, and I leaned into him, burying my face in his chest. The frantic drumming in my heart finally slowed to a normal rhythm. It wasn’t a cheating scandal. It wasn’t some shady secret. It was a thoughtful, slightly chaotic birthday surprise. My brother, my boyfriend, and Sarah, all in cahoots, trying to hide a piece of my childhood from me.
“An arcade machine,” I murmured into his shirt, the absurdity of it making me chuckle. “You were smuggling Pac-Man.”
He squeezed me tighter. “Yep. Guilty as charged. Now, please tell me you didn’t read any further in those texts. Sarah was sending me pictures of the machine, and if you saw it, the whole thing’s ruined.”
I pulled back, smiling properly for the first time since seeing the notification. “Nope,” I lied easily, “Just the preview. ‘Sarah’, ‘Kevin’, ‘box’, ‘doesn’t see it’. That was enough to send me into a spiral, but not enough to spoil the surprise.” I squeezed his hands. “Thank you. That’s… incredible.”
He grinned, visibly relaxing. “Good. Now, about dinner…”