I kept staring at that name like it meant something special.
Only one question was on my mind, why. Why now.
Why now when I'm about to be in the moment.
Why now when I'm finally finding everything, including myself.
I let out a slow breath, my fingers tightening slightly around my phone as I kept reading the name over and over like it would change into something else. It didn't. It stayed the same, simple and familiar in a way that made my chest feel tight.
Oh hell no. He's not coming back to ruin everything I've picked up and carefully put together.
I didn't know whether or not to reply, so I just texted "hey" and sent it before I could overthink it too much.
A part of me hoped he wouldn't respond, that it would just end there and I could pretend I never opened that door again. But my phone lit up almost immediately.
Hey
How are you?
I stared at it for a second before replying.
Fine.
He didn't stop there.
How's everything? School?
Fine.
I could already feel my mood shifting slightly, not because of what he was saying, but because of how normal he was acting, like nothing had ever happened between us, like time hadn't changed anything.
Then another message came in.
Why are your replies so short?
That one did it.
I sat up properly on the bed, holding my phone a little tighter now.
Did he actually expect me to act like everything was fine between us, like I should suddenly start talking to him the way I used to, like I didn't remember anything that made me guard myself in the first place?
My fingers moved before I could think too deeply about it.
Stop pretending like we're friends.
Long enough for me to stare at the screen and already start regretting nothing, but feeling everything at once.
Then his reply came in.
Friends?
Just that.
I exhaled slowly, my grip tightening slightly on the phone without me even noticing it.
Of course he was going to act confused. Of course he was going to act like I was the one making it complicated.
I typed back immediately.
Don't do that.
Another pause.
Then his next message came.
I'm not doing anything, I just wanted to check on you.
That sentence made me laugh, but it wasn't a happy laugh. More like disbelief.
Check on me.
Now.
After everything.
I leaned back slightly on the bed, staring at the ceiling for a second before replying.
You don't get to disappear and then come back like nothing happened.
My thumb hovered over the screen again, but I didn't stop myself this time.
Not with me.
I'm sorry, he texted.
I stared at the message for a second, and something in my chest tightened in a way I didn't like.
It reminded me of that feeling I got when my dad apologized, that strange mix of relief and discomfort that never really sat right no matter how much I tried to accept it.
Stephen was actually apologizing after years, after everything he had done, after how he had completely messed with my life in ways I still didn't fully know how to explain out loud.
A lump rose in my throat as old memories pushed their way up without permission.
He didn't just leave, he left a version of me behind that I was still trying to fix. Everything I struggle with when it comes to guys, every hesitation, every fear, every second-guessing, all of it had his fingerprints on it.
My grip on the phone tightened as my breathing started to feel uneven, like my chest couldn't settle properly.
Anger mixed with something closer to panic, the kind that makes everything feel too loud even when nothing is happening around you.
I couldn't let him back in. Not even slightly. Not even through words on a screen.
If I did, even for a second, I already knew it would undo more than I was ready to deal with.
My fingers moved fast before I could rethink anything.
Don't ever text this number again.
I sent it immediately, then blocked him without hesitation, like cutting off access was the only way to steady myself.
I dropped my phone on the bed and sat still for a moment, my head feeling heavier, like everything I had buried was pressing back at once.
Then it hit me.
Jay.
I blinked slowly, like I was just remembering where I was again, like I had stepped out of something I wasn't fully aware I was in.
My hand reached for my phone without thinking. I opened Jay's chat, and wrote the only thing in my head.
How about that date?