The Last Bag In Lost And Found

What do you call someone who hasn’t seen her girlfriend in a month, whose messages have mostly gone unanswered, and who finally gets a sudden phone call in the middle of the week asking her to meet on Friday night after work at their favorite place to eat?

Someone who, from the moment she woke up, had chosen the best outfit in her closet. Wore her favorite perfume—the one she kept reapplying every two or three hours as though the scent might somehow make the evening more memorable. Someone who had carried dental floss in her pocket all day, just in case.

Only to end up sitting on the edge of a parking lot with food stains covering the front of her shirt, staring blankly at nothing.

Some time earlier...

Nearly half an hour had passed when Chal finally spotted the woman she had been waiting for walking into the restaurant.

Her heart, which had been restless all evening, began to pound harder. She even stood up, instinctively smoothing out the wrinkles in her shirt before giving Fon a small smile as she approached.

But the smile slowly faded.

Fon wasn’t carrying anything. There was no familiar little smile waiting for her, no warm greeting, not even the casual affection Chal had grown accustomed to.

When Fon finally sat across from her, she barely glanced at the menu before ordering a glass of water.

“Just water.” Chal frowned.

“Seriously? You don’t Want anything to eat? I already—”

“Chal.”

One word was enough to make her stop.

Fon looked at her for a long moment. Too long. Long enough for something inside Chal to begin twisting uneasily.

Fon took a slow breath. Her fingers tightened around the glass that had just been placed in front of her. Her eyes dropped to the table several times before finally meeting Chal’s again.

“I think...” Her voice was quiet, almost as though she were afraid of the words herself. “I think we should break up.”

For a few seconds, Chal simply stared at her.

As if her mind had refused to process what she had just heard.

“What?”

Fon said nothing.

Chal gave a small, nervous laugh. “Babe, you’re joking, right?”

There was no answer.

“Fon?”

“I’m serious, Chal.”

The strength seemed to leave Chal’s body all at once. Her shoulders sagged. Her fingers, which had been resting on the table, slowly curled into a fist, as if she could somehow hold together whatever had just collapsed inside her.

She looked at Fon, searching for even the smallest sign that this wasn’t real.

There was none.

“Why?” Chal finally asked.

“I can’t explain it right now.” Fon shook her head gently.

“Then, when?”

“I have to go. I need to see my mom.” Fon glanced at her watch, barely acknowledging the question.

Chal fell silent again.

Only a few hours earlier, she had left work in the middle of a photoshoot with one of their biggest clients. She had rushed through traffic because she was afraid of being late. On the way there, she had even stopped to buy a bouquet of lilies—Fon’s favorite flowers—already imagining the look on her girlfriend’s face when she saw them.

The bouquet now lay on the seat beside her, still wrapped neatly, still carrying its delicate scent.

Still waiting to be given.

Chal looked at the flowers for a moment before turning back to Fon.

“So...” Her voice was barely audible. “I came all the way here for this?”

Fon lowered her gaze.

Chal didn’t cry.

Not yet.

She simply sat there, her chest hollow, still dressed in the outfit she had chosen so carefully that morning, the perfume she had reapplied throughout the day still lingering heavily on her skin, the bouquet of lilies sitting untouched beside her.

For the first time that day, Chal wished she had arrived late.

Maybe if she had been stuck in traffic a little longer, she wouldn’t have had to hear those words. Maybe if she hadn’t answered Fon’s Call, maybe if she hadn’t bought the flowers, maybe if she hadn’t allowed herself to hope so much.

But none of those maybes could change anything.

Fon was already standing.

“I should go.”

Chal said nothing.

And when Fon walked away, Chal remained where she was.

Alone, with a glass of untouched water in front of her and Fon’s favorite lilies beside her—the only thing on the table that didn’t know their relationship had just ended.

☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎

Chal gathered what little strength she had left and pushed herself to her feet after a while. She stood too quickly for someone whose mind was still somewhere else. Her shoulder immediately collided with someone passing behind her.

“Hey—”

The tray in the waitress’s hands tilted dangerously.

Chal instinctively reached out, but she was too late.

A half-eaten plate of pasta slipped from the tray and landed squarely against the front of Chal’s shirt. Red tomato sauce splattered across the fabric, staining her pants as well. A tiny smear even landed on her chin.

Chal stared at the stain for a few seconds.

Then she looked at The waitress.

“Why weren’t you watching where you were going?” The waitress blinked.

“I wasn’t watching where I was going?”

“I just stood up.”

“Yeah, and I was walking past.”

“I know you were walking past. But you could have—”

“You stood up suddenly.”

“I’m just saying you could’ve been more careful.” Chal rubbed a hand over her face. She didn’t actually mean to sound angry. She was simply too tired, too embarrassed, too hollow, and now her favorite shirt was covered in tomato sauce.

“I’m just saying you could’ve given me a warning before standing up.”

“A warning?”

“Yeah. Like, ‘Excuse me, I’m about to stand up.’”

Chal stared at her in disbelief.

“In a restaurant?”

“Yes. I was startled, okay?”

The waitress lifted her chin slightly. She looked irritated, but there was something almost strangely alive in her eyes for someone who had just spilled an entire plate of pasta onto a customer.

Chal opened her mouth, then closed it again. She didn’t have the energy to argue. Unfortunately, the waitress wasn’t finished.

“And you immediately started yelling at me.”

“I wasn’t yelling.”

“You said I wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“That’s not yelling.”

“That’s the opening line before yelling.”

“Enough. I—”

“Waan.” Another voice came from behind them.

A woman hurried over, presumably The restaurant manager. Her eyes moved from Chal, covered in sauce, to the empty plate still in the waitress’s hands.

“What happened?”

“She stood up suddenly, bumped into me, my food fell, and then she yelled at me.” The waitress immediately pointed at Chal.

“I did not—” Chal sighed.

“Waan,” the manager interrupted, more firmly this time. “Apologize first.”

“But, Ma’am—”

“Waan.”

Waan pressed her lips together.

A few seconds later, she looked at Chal with the unmistakable expression of someone being forced to apologize against her will.

“Sorry.”

The apology sounded like it had been dragged out of her against her better judgment.

“I’m very sorry about this. We can help get the stain out. Please come to the back for a moment. We have stain remover.” The manager immediately turned to Chal and offered a small bow.

Chal glanced down at her shirt.

The red stain had spread across the front in a shape that was almost artistic. A thin line of sauce ran from her chest toward her stomach, while the tiny spot on her chin made her look as though she had just lost a fight with a bowl of pasta.

“I’m fine.”

“Are you sure? There’s quite a bit of sauce on your clothes.”

“I can clean it myself.”

“We’d still like to take responsibility. Please, just come with me.”

“I said I’m fine.” Her voice came out sharper than she intended, The manager stopped, The waitress raised an eyebrow.

Chal noticed a few people nearby beginning to look over. She closed her eyes for a moment.

“Sorry,” she said quietly. “I’m just... not really focused right now.”

“It’s okay. At least let us get you some wet tissues.” The manager’s expression softened when she noticed how pale Chal looked.

“I can get them myself.” Chal grabbed several tissues from the nearest table and dabbed at the stain, It only made things worse, the red sauce spread across the fabric, leaving her shirt looking as though it had just survived some small, ridiculous crime.

☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎ ☁︎

For a long while, Chal sat on the edge of the restaurant’s parking lot, leaning against the concrete barrier with her hands hanging loosely between her knees.

She said nothing, still trying to take it all in.

Her thoughts remained at that restaurant table—Fon’s hesitant voice, the untouched glass of water, and those words that still felt as though they had never really been meant for her.

Beside her, the bouquet of lilies she had chosen so carefully was still sitting on the seat, Chal honestly didn’t even know why she had brought it with her, maybe she simply wasn’t ready to throw it away, or maybe she hadn’t found a reason to let go of something she had spent the entire day looking forward to.

Not long after, the back door of the restaurant opened with a sharp bang.

Chal lifted her head.

A petite woman stepped outside, muttering under her breath as she hurried across the parking lot, roughly rummaging through her bag.

Chal recognized her.

The waitress from earlier.

The one Called Waan.

From a distance, Chal watched as Waan continued grumbling on her way toward her motorcycle, occasionally waving a hand through the air as though she were still arguing with someone who wasn’t there.

Chal watched without really meaning to.

She was simply too tired to do anything else. The waitress put on her helmet, started her motorcycle, and rode straight past Chal without ever noticing her.

Chal followed her with her eyes until the sound of the engine gradually disappeared down the road.

Strangely, the sight of her made Chal’s chest feel a little lighter, as if she wasn’t the only one having a terrible day.

Chal exhaled and rested her head against the concrete.

She didn’t know what had happened to Waan, or what had left the woman looking as though she had just come through something far heavier than an exhausting shift.

To Chal, Waan was nothing more than the waitress she had accidentally bumped into earlier—a stranger who happened to be the last person she saw before going home.

Chal had no idea what kind of night Waan was actually having.

And for now, neither of them had any reason to know the other’s name beyond that.