Page 33 of Wrong Number, Right Grumpy Player

Finally... She whispers,”I don't think I can do this."

I stop walking. "What?"

"This." She takes a shaky breath. “This life. The cameras. The headlines. The comments. I thought..." Her voice breaks again. “I really thought I could. But I can't. Now I get why you hate it so much too.”

My heart rips. “Jo?—"

"I like you too much to become another headline."

"Please don't."

"I think..." She starts crying. "I think we should stop before things get even more serious.”

Everything inside me goes still. “Please, no.”

“Well, maybe we just need to cool it for a bit.”

My “jaw clenches. For how long?"

"I don't know." She “takes another deep breath. “I just... I need some space. To figure things out.”

The line goes quiet.

My throat swells. I want to beg her to let me fix this. I want to beg her to give me another chance.

But I can’t. Not when I know how much being with me has already cost her.

I clear my throat. “I’ll miss you."

Her voice breaks again. “I’ll miss you too."

That night, I pick up my phone out of habit.

Every night for the past six weeks... There's been a message waiting.

Goodnight.

Sleep well.

Don't let the reporters bite.

Something. Anything. Tonight... Nothing. Not that I expected there to be something, but it still hurts.

I type anyway.

Good night.

My thumb hovers over Send.

I stare at the words for a long time.

Then...

I delete them.

For the first time since one wrong number changed everything, my phone stays silent.

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