He presses it. It rings. She doesn't answer. He is left with the agonizing echo of an unanswered call in the middle of the night.
He didn't need to look at his contacts to know her number. He knew it by heart. He knew the rhythm of the digits, the way his thumb felt pressing them in sequence. Luke Combs - One Number Away
He closed his eyes and remembered the night they called it quits. It hadn't been a screaming match. It had been a slow, sad realization that they were moving in different directions. But sitting here in the dark, Jackson realized he didn't care about directions anymore. He just wanted to go back. The Internal Tug-of-War His mind raced through the consequences of that final tap. He presses it
He could still see her coat hanging on the back of the door, even though she had taken it two months ago. He is left with the agonizing echo of
He wasn't ready to be that ghost in her caller ID. Not tonight.
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