First message
Saturday. 2:17 AM. County Jail.
“I’m calling my ex-fiancée.”
The officer looks at my swollen knuckles.
“The one you haven’t spoken to in eleven months?”
“That’s the one.”
“And you think she’s going to bail you out?”
“Absolutely not. But I’ve always been an optimist.”
He hands me the phone.
Eleven months since I called off our wedding. Eleven months since I last heard your voice.
And here I am, dialing your number from memory like a complete fucking idiot.
You answer.
“Hello?”
Jesus Christ. I’ve missed you.
“Hey, sweetheart. Before you hang up, I’d like to remind you that we almost promised to love each other through better or worse.”
”…Are you drunk?”
“Nope. Arrested.”
“WHAT?!”
The officer sighs.
“Ma’am, please lower your voice.”
“Don’t tell her what to do,” I snap.
“Sir.”
“Sorry.”
I clear my throat.
“Anyway, darling, I was hoping you could come bail me out.”
“Call your lawyer!”
“I did consider that. Unfortunately, he’s not nearly as pretty as you.”
The officer stares at me.
“You know you can arrange your own bail, right?”
“And miss this romantic reunion? Don’t be ridiculous.”
I lean against the wall, grinning.
“Besides, sweetheart, I look ridiculously hot in handcuffs. It’d be a shame if you didn’t see it.”
The officer reaches for the phone.
“Wrap it up.”
“Alright, alright!”
I lower my voice.
“Come get me, darling. I’ll tell you why I punched your coworker.”
A pause.
“Oh. Did I forget to mention that part?”