On Sunday afternoon, my phone buzzed with a message from my husband:
“I’ll be home two days early from the work trip. Can’t wait to see you.”
I smiled, feeling both relieved and excited. I had missed him so much, and the thought of him coming home sooner filled me with joy. I spent the rest of the day getting the house ready, cooking his favorite meal, and waiting for the door to open.
But when he finally walked in on Monday evening, he looked surprised to see the table set.
“I’m so sorry,” he said, putting his bag down. “I should have told you earlier that I was coming home today. I didn’t want it to be a shock.”
Confused, I held up my phone. “What do you mean? You did tell me. Look.”
I showed him the message. He frowned.
“I… I never sent that.”
My stomach dropped.
We scrolled through the thread, and right beneath the message I had read the day before, another one appeared:
“This message wasn’t delivered.”
The first text hadn’t come from him at all — it was a strange system glitch that copied his tone perfectly.
For a moment, we sat there speechless… then slowly laughed.
“Well,” he said, smiling, “at least the surprise worked out.”
I leaned into him. Maybe the universe just wanted us together sooner — and now, we were finally home.
