It was a warm, quiet afternoon—the kind of day where you take a deep breath and simply enjoy the present moment. I was standing in the field, leaning against the truck, feeling the wind in my hair, and thought it would be fun to send a quick photo to my husband. Just something casual, nothing special. The truck looked nice with the trees in the background, and I thought he’d appreciate the scenery. I took the picture standing next to the truck and sent it without much thought. It was simply a moment to share a part of my day. But when his response came back almost immediately, it wasn’t what I expected. “Who’s that in the reflection?” I blinked, confused. “What reflection?” I replied, feeling a knot form in my stomach.
The back window. There’s someone there,” he replied, his words more serious than I had expected. My heart started pounding. I reopened the image and zoomed in on the truck’s rear window, scanning the reflection. At first, I thought he must be mistaken—maybe it was just a reflection of light or a distant tree. But when I looked closer, I felt sick. There was a figure, faint but clearly present, standing right behind me. It wasn’t a sharp image, but the outline was clear enough: the silhouette of a man, wearing a hat that cast a shadow over his face.
The hat. My breath caught when I recognized the familiar shape. It looked exactly like the hat my ex-boyfriend always wore and never left the house without. My mind raced, struggling to make sense of it all. How could this be possible? I was alone when I took the photo, wasn’t I? I hadn’t noticed anyone around. The area was empty—just me and the truck. But the reflection didn’t lie. Someone had been standing close enough to be visible in the window, and there was no easy way to explain it away. I quickly typed a response, trying to sound calm.
I’m sure it’s just a trick of the light, maybe a tree or something like that. I was alone. But I could already sense the change in his tone as he replied. “That doesn’t look like a tree. It looks like him.” I stared at the screen, my fingers frozen. He didn’t need to spell it out. I knew exactly who he meant. My ex. The man I thought I’d left behind a long time ago—or so I thought.
