It was a Tuesday morning like any other for Mark. He had just arrived at work, started his computer, and settled into his usual morning routine: a coffee, checking his emails, reading the latest news from around the office…
His colleague arrived a little later, and after their usual greeting, they discussed the day ahead and the meeting they had planned in about an hour.
Mark decided to take a few minutes to prepare. He took out his notes and went through them one last time, making sure everything was ready for the pitch he had to give, when suddenly he noticed his cellphone lighting up.
A message.
From someone he didn’t know.
He decided to leave it for now and continued going through his notes.
After the meeting, he took a short break and noticed the message still lingering on the screen of his phone. He picked it up and opened it.
It was a short text asking if the meeting that afternoon was still going ahead at the same location they had planned.
He looked at the name of the sender.
Meredith.
He didn’t know anyone named Meredith. Not from work, nor among his personal contacts.
Instead of simply ignoring it, he decided to reply:
I’m sorry, I think you’ve reached the wrong number. I’m probably not the Mark you’re looking for.
Kind regards,
Mark
A few minutes later, his phone lit up again.
My apologies! I must have saved the wrong number. Thank you for letting me know anyway!
Mark smiled at her reply.
No worries. I hope you’ll find the right Mark in time and that your meeting goes as planned. Good luck anyway!
He put his phone back in his pocket and went back to work.
And with that, as far as Mark was concerned, their brief conversation was over.
—-
It was already past 6 in the evening when Mark arrived back home from work. Exhausted, he put his bag on the floor next to the table, went to the kitchen and prepared a quick meal for dinner.
While eating, he put the TV on, same routine as every normal weekday evening; Netflix on and bingeing that series from the episode he had stopped watching last night.
When his meal was finished he went back into the kitchen and quickly went through the dishes, then returned to the living room and took place again at the sofa.
He took his cellphone and looked at the screen; one new message. He saw the name and a smile appeared on his face. It was from Meredith. Who had wrong-texted him in the morning.
He opened the message that said:
Found the right Mark eventually. Meeting went good too. Thought I’d let the wrong Mark know!
Meredith.
He chuckled at the text and replied:
Good to hear that you have found the right Mark! I was starting to get worried a bit.
Wrong Mark.
A few minutes later, his phone lit up again.
Glad to hear the Wrong Mark was worried about me!
Mark smiled.
He hesitated for a moment before typing another message.
So, if I may ask… what was the meeting about anyway? After all this, I feel like I deserve to know what I was almost invited to.
The three little dots appeared almost immediately.
Nothing too exciting, I’m afraid. Just a meeting with a client about a project we’ve been working on for the past few months. Probably not worth travelling all the way over here for.
Mark frowned slightly at the last sentence.
All the way over there? Where exactly is “over there”?
There was a brief pause before her reply appeared.
England. What about you?
Mark chuckled.
Belgium.
Oh wow. So I didn’t just text the wrong Mark. I managed to text the wrong Mark in the wrong country.
That’s actually quite impressive.
Thank you. It’s a talent.
Mark laughed.
What had started that morning as nothing more than a message from a stranger had somehow turned into a conversation between two people living in different countries.
They continued chatting for a little while. Nothing particularly important. Work, the differences between Belgium and England, a few jokes about the weather, and eventually about the strange coincidence that had brought them into contact in the first place.
It was getting late when Meredith finally sent another message.
Anyway, Wrong Mark, I should probably get some sleep. Thanks again for letting me know about the number this morning.
You’re welcome, Wrong Meredith. Sleep well.
Wrong Meredith? I wasn’t the one who received a message from a stranger!
No. You were the one who sent it.
Fair point. Goodnight, Wrong Mark.
Goodnight.
Mark put his phone aside and continued watching his series.
And that, once again, could easily have been the end of it.
Except it wasn’t.
—
The following evening, Mark was preparing dinner when his phone vibrated on the kitchen counter.
He glanced at the screen.
Meredith.
So, Wrong Mark… how did your pitch go yesterday?
For some reason, Mark smiled when he read it.
She had remembered.
Pretty well, actually. Nobody threw anything at me, so I’m calling it a success.
That’s a very low standard.
It keeps disappointment manageable.
Their conversation continued while Mark prepared his dinner. A few messages became ten. Ten became twenty.
The next evening, it was Mark who sent the first message.
And the evening after that, Meredith did.
Neither of them ever really asked why.
—
Days became weeks.
The nickname Wrong Mark remained.
So did Meredith.
Their conversations gradually moved beyond work and jokes about how they had met. They talked about music and movies, complained about colleagues, shared pictures of whatever strange thing they happened to see during the day, and occasionally sent each other photos of their dinners.
Sometimes they only exchanged a handful of messages.
Other evenings, Mark would look at the clock and realise they had been talking for hours.
Weeks became months.
By then, seeing Meredith’s name appear on his screen no longer felt unusual. It had simply become part of his day.
They had never met.
They had never even been in the same country together.
Yet somehow, they had become friends.
One evening, several months after that first wrong message, their conversation turned to travelling.
I seriously need a holiday, Meredith wrote. Somewhere warm. I’m getting tired of looking at grey skies.
Mark looked through the window. Rain was running down the glass.
You’re telling a Belgian about grey skies. Brave.
Fine. Somewhere warm for both of us then.
Spain.
Her answer came almost immediately.
Spain?
Why not? Sun, sea, good food, little towns along the coast. Hard to complain about that.
You’ve been before?
Several times. I love it there.
There was a longer pause this time.
Then the three little dots appeared.
I’ve actually been thinking about Spain for next year.
Mark smiled.
Good choice.
Maybe.
Another pause.
You know what would be funny?
I’m almost afraid to ask.
What if we both went?
Mark stared at the message.
Went where?
Spain.
He sat a little straighter on the sofa.
At the same time?
At the same place.
For several seconds, Mark simply looked at the screen.
Then another message appeared.
We’ve been talking almost every day for months, Wrong Mark. Don’t you think it’s a little ridiculous that we’ve never actually met?
Mark started typing.
Stopped.
Started again.
Are you seriously suggesting that two people from different countries, who met because you accidentally texted the wrong number, should book a holiday together in Spain?
The three dots appeared.
When you put it like that, it does sound slightly insane.
Mark laughed.
Only slightly?
Fine. Completely insane.
A few seconds passed.
Then Meredith sent one more message.
But would you do it?
Mark stared at the question.
Months earlier, she had been nothing more than an unknown name on his phone.
Meredith.
A stranger looking for someone else.
The wrong Mark.
He smiled and began to type.
Curious about what happens further? Found out in next week’s second episode of this two- part story; Strangers meeting at foreign land.