He wasn't ready to be that ghost in her caller ID. Not tonight.

He closed his eyes and remembered the night they called it quits. It hadn't been a screaming match. It had been a slow, sad realization that they were moving in different directions. But sitting here in the dark, Jackson realized he didn't care about directions anymore. He just wanted to go back. The Internal Tug-of-War His mind raced through the consequences of that final tap.

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 his thumb hovering over the green call button. He was exactly one number away from hearing her voice. The Weight of the Last Digit

Would she answer? Or would it go straight to voicemail?