Broken Code

Part 17

In the end, one of us had to break the silence and reach out. Days stretched endlessly, filled with anticipation, as thoughts of Simon consumed me. "I see you every day," his words echoed in my mind like a spell, unrelenting and persistent. He was near, yet I didn't know who he was. I'd heard his voice but couldn't picture his face. He wasn't a machine; he was real, flesh and blood. Somewhere in the system, a misplaced line of code concealed him, and I was determined to find it.

I started noticing everything in the office, paying attention to even the smallest details that might offer a clue about who was hiding behind the alias bugSi49. Each time I passed by my colleagues' desks, I scrutinised their faces, searching for a sign, a hint that might point to him. But none of them sparked any connection to Simon.

My obsession grew. I began speculating about who he might be, running through possibilities in my mind. Colleagues who were unusually friendly or gave me lingering looks became suspects. Jamal, our systems administrator, caught my attention with his sudden glances. "Please, not him," I thought, trying to suppress the panic that crept in whenever I considered it.

I found myself checking the company chat more often, hoping he would appear and message me. Each notification made my heart race, and the sound of a phone call sent an electric jolt through me.

Every conversation with Simon became a moment to treasure—a small escape from the monotony of daily life. His voice was steady, confident, and oddly soothing. It drew me in, calming me even as I wrestled with the unease of this secret connection. We spoke about everything—music, books, work, and his musings—as if we were lifelong friends catching up after years apart.

I realised I was waiting for his calls with bated breath, even though I knew I shouldn't. Each one nudged me closer to the edge, yet I couldn't resist. His voice—soft, warm, and imbued with an unexplainable comfort—had become an integral part of my day. I found myself smiling whenever I heard his casual "Hello."

But could you fall in love with a voice? I didn't know his face, didn't know how he looked, yet with every conversation, I discovered something in him that resonated within me. I imagined his face, his gestures, his smile—a smile I could somehow feel through the phone. The thought filled me with an odd mix of joy and guilt.

And yet, I couldn't help but question myself. What was I doing? How had I let someone I'd never met become so important to me?

I knew the only way to quell this inner turmoil was to uncover the truth about Simon. But how? I resolved to act, to find a way to meet him face-to-face. It was the only way to end the uncertainty—to finally know who he was.