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She Asked Me to Watch Her Kids for an Hour — Then Disappeared for 7 Years Without a Word

Posted on May 5, 2025 By edm.

We were inseparable.

Best friends since high school, married within a year of each other, and even lived just five minutes apart. We did everything together — from weekend coffee runs to late-night therapy sessions on parenting struggles. Our kids practically grew up in the same house.

So when she called me one afternoon asking if I could watch her two boys for “just an hour” while she ran an errand, I didn’t hesitate.

“No problem,” I said. “Come by whenever.”

But she never came back.

Not that day. Not the next. Not ever — for seven long years.

At first, I thought something had happened. A medical emergency? A car accident? I waited by the phone, expecting a call from her husband or a neighbor saying she was okay.

But no call came.

I texted. No reply.
I called. Went straight to voicemail.
I even stopped by her house — it was empty. Boxes half-packed. Toys still scattered across the floor like life had paused mid-sentence.

It wasn’t until a mutual friend mentioned offhandedly at a party that “She moved out of state with someone new…” that I realized the truth.

She hadn’t disappeared.
She had left — without saying goodbye.

No explanation. No apology. Just silence.

For seven years, I replayed it all in my head. Wondering what I had done wrong. Had I offended her? Did she grow tired of our friendship? Was I too much?

Then, out of nowhere, a message popped up on Facebook:

“Hey girl! How are you???”

Like nothing had happened.

I stared at the screen, heart pounding. So many emotions flooded through me — betrayal, anger, sadness… and oddly, relief.

I replied:

“Where the hell have you been?”

Her response?

“I needed space. It was a hard time for me. I’m sorry it went down like that.”

That’s it. That’s all.

No details. No tears. No real accountability.

I didn’t block her. But I didn’t run back into her arms either.

Because friendships shouldn’t end like that — with a void so deep it takes years to stop wondering if you were ever really important.

And now, every time I see those boys — who are practically my own — I feel that same ache.

The kind that comes from loving someone who forgot how to love you back.

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