At the very last millisecond, Jackson stopped. He stared at the glowing screen, the incomplete number staring back at him like an unresolved chord in a country song.

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

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

With a slow, heavy exhale, Jackson hit the backspace button. He watched the numbers disappear one by one until the screen was blank. He locked the phone and flipped it face down on the table.