He deletes the numbers. He goes to bed. He wakes up tomorrow and continues the slow, painful process of forgetting.
He took a deep breath, his finger descending toward the screen. Luke Combs - One Number Away
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. He deletes the numbers
Jackson’s thumb shook slightly. He could almost hear the song they used to dance to playing in the distance, or maybe it was just the ringing in his own ears. He remembered the smell of her perfume, a mix of vanilla and rain, and for a second, the decision seemed easy. The Decision He took a deep breath, his finger descending
Jackson had his thumb hovering over the green call button. He was exactly one number away from hearing her voice. The Weight of the Last Digit
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.
Jackson had already typed the area code. He had typed the first three numbers, then the next three. Only the final digit remained. A four. Such a small, simple shape, yet it felt like it weighed a thousand pounds. The apartment was too quiet without her laugh.