Page 112 of Right Number, Wrong Man
I should’ve called, but I don’t think I could get the words out. I’m really sorry.
My brow furrows as I hammer out a message.
This ain’t her fault. I have no right to be mad and I have no right to be possessive, but this once I can’t hold my tongue. This once, I can’t be the bigger man.
The agony of grief and anger, the weight of secrets and lies—it’s too much.
The pain of a lifetime without her bubbles over inside me, poisoning me, spilling into my words like venom.
Me
I’m not a toy you can throw away cause you’re done using me.
Hailey
Not fair. You’re lashing out and being mean.
Iambeing mean and unfair, but life has always been unfair to me, too. I hate myself like this. Too angry. Spinning out of control.
I gotta get a grip.
Why can’t I stop typing?
Me
Then tell me who the bastard is and I’ll prove that I’m better than him. I’ll prove that I’m everything you’ll ever need. Whatever you want, I can give it to you.
Hailey
I don’t think this is a good idea.
Me
Last chance, Sugar. Don’t do this.
Hailey
I need to figure out what I feel for him and if those feelings are real.
Me
You’ll regret this.
If you think I’m gonna let you go without a fight, you’re dead wrong. I know where to find you. You can’t run from me.
Nobody can protect you from me.
Not your new boyfriend. Not the cops. Not a whole damn army.
I stare at the phone. Minutes crawl by. The morning silence suffocates me and I take a stuttering breath.
Why did I come down on her so hard? What did I expect to achieve?
If I kept my emotions in check, Hailey might’ve told me more and then I would’ve had a starting point, could’ve done some research, and taken the asshole out. Calmly, like a professional. But nah, I went crazier than a soup sandwich and fucked it all up.
Fingers trembling, I type another message.
Me
