Descent (Black Heart Romance presents Heaven & Hell)

head to explain why I didn’t want to be with him anymore, so I finally stopped responding to his
messages altogether.
It has been weeks since I last heard from him, and given the tone of this first message he’s
sending me tonight, I am not excited to hear from him again. Dread churns in my gut as another text
from him pops up.
This one reads, “What if no one ever loves me?”
I sigh, reaching for my drink and taking a big gulp. Then I text him back, “That’s absurd, Jackson.
You just haven’t met the right girl yet, that’s all.”
“I thought I had,” he responds.
I try not to feel guilty, but it’s hard.
I remind myself it’s no one’s fault if two people are poorly matched. It’s better we
acknowledged it and let each other go so both of us would have a better shot at finding happiness
elsewhere.
Besides, if the way he treated me was the level of attentiveness he would devote to “the one,”
then I feel a little sorry for anyone who is meant for him.
Another text comes through. “I don’t want to be alone tonight.”
I’m less sure about how to answer this one. I text back, “You don’t have to be alone. Meet up
with some friends, go out.”
“I’m already out. I need to see you. Please, you owe me this much.”
He almost had me until that last part. I make a face at my phone, instantly turned off.
I don’t owe him shit.
We dated and then we stopped because it wasn’t a good fit. The end.
I owe him.
He’s got some fucking nerve.
To put a swift end to this interaction, I shoot him one last text. “I can’t meet you tonight. I’m at
Charity’s bachelorette party. And I don’t owe you anything, Jackson. I’m sorry it didn’t work out, but
it didn’t, and that’s no one’s fault. I’m not interested in rekindling anything, ever. I hope you find
someone that fits you better than I did and that you’ll both be very happy together. Good night.”
To avoid the temptation of further engaging with him, I open the flap of my pink leather purse and
slide my phone inside.
There.
No more Jackson.