[ RF ] Your ex calls you months after you broke up . They want `` closure . ''

The chirping notification, which at one time would have sent my hand flying for my phone in my eagerness to lap up her once sweet, caring words, now turned my blood ice cold. It had been silent for exactly 136 days since it had last beckoned to me, and I had not expected it to sound again. The cheerful tone rang out again, and against my better judgement, I reached for my phone and saw the start of her message. 
 
'Sorry.' 
 
 I tossed my phone aside and put my head in my hands. It would be best not to read whatever it was she had to say. However, we had n't exactly ended on the best note before, seeing as she had ignored me for weeks until I finally got the hint and stopped calling her. The name rang round my head. 
 
 `` Carol.'' 
 
 It left a sour taste in my mouth. Once I would have said her name was the most beautiful sound in the world, a treat to say aloud, but now I needed the strongest mints I could find to numb all traces of her. 
 
 `` God, just leave it be. Anyone who ghosts instead of breaking up in a mature manner does n't deserve your attention,'' I said to myself sternly. I glanced at the screen as it lit up and called out to me again. I forced my gaze away and to the blanket that was balled up next to me on the cracked leather sofa. A loose thread was twitching in the draft that ran through the entire house. I had been meaning to sew it back into the blanket so that it could n't unravel, but had never gotten round to it. 
 
 Another notification sounded, sending shivers through me. I grasped the corners of the blanket and threw it out to unfurl it and spread it over myself, as if it would somehow mute the noise or keep the cold feelings away. My fingers found the loose thread and began to pull. It softly twanged as it began to unravel. Two more notifications one after the other. 
 
 I grabbed my phone, intending to turn it off, or at least mute it. I should have blocked her when she ended things with me. But then there would be nobody in my contacts except my mother. Carol had seen to that. A burst of anger flitted through me, and I opened her message to perhaps give her a piece of my mind, of my true, unfiltered thoughts. 
 
 CAROL: Sorry. 
 CAROL: I truly am sorry. 
 CAROL: I should n't have left you the way I did. 
 CAROL: I know that now, but at the time I was doing myself and you a favour. 
 CAROL: But now I've realised I ca n't move on until I speak to you and gain some sort of closure. 
 CAROL: Please talk to me... 
 
 Her words enraged me. All this time and the first thing she says is'sorry'? She could n't even be bothered to add'I' and'am' to her pathetic apology. 
 
 KEVIN: I ca n't believe I used to love you. 
 
 She began to type, but I swiftly removed her from my contacts and turned my phone off. I felt sick. It had been a bad idea to reply, a worse idea to read the messages in the first place. I needed someone to call for advice, but now I only had one contact. I delved between the sofa cushions and fished out the grubby TV remote and put on the first program I saw on the guide. I pulled the blanket over my head, wrapped the loose thread around my finger and began to pull. 
 
 I awoke in darkness to sure knocks on my front door, the air around me stifling and choking. I rolled onto the floor with a thud, my body tangled in the blanket which slipped off my face as I fell, granting me sweet, cool air and dim evening light. The knocking at the door grew strong and more frequent as I stumbled to throw it open. 
 
 And there she stood, her fist raised in the air ready to knock again. 
 
 `` Carol?'' 
 
 `` Kevin,'' she said sternly, and cocked her head at me. `` Are you going to let me in?'' 
 
 `` Not a chance,'' came my surprisingly sharp reply. She was as shocked as me but did n't push further. 
 
 `` Fine,'' she said, shaking her hair and folding her arms, `` you do n't have to let me in and show kindness but you do need to listen so we can both move on.'' 
 
 I pawed at the welcome mat with my sock clad foot. `` Go on then.'' 
 
 `` I am sorry,'' she began, and at my glare she quickly threw out, `` no, I know you do n't believe me but it's true. I should n't have ignored you. I know you must have been worried, and the truth is, I do n't deserve you. I did n't deserve you. The only reason I ever...'' she trailed off and frowned, before spitting out, ``'cheated' on you, was because I needed to hurt myself.'' 
 
 Anger flared inside me once more. So her form of closure was another sob story? What did she want, another second chance? 
 
 `` That's the biggest load of bullshit I've ever heard,'' I growled. She winced at the tone. 
 
 `` You've changed,'' she said. 
 
 `` You have n't. I do n't know what other stories and sorry excuses you have, but you better hurry up because I am this close to slamming the door in your face,'' I said, holding my fingers up for emphasis. 
 
 `` The truth is, I always thought we would end up together. But you pushed me away and did n't let me help you, and in all honesty you being so sad all the time was really bringing me down and was starting to affect my job performance-'' 
 
 `` I was and am depressed,'' I spat, my hand gripping the door tightly. 
 
 `` I know, and I'm sorry! But it was hard to be there for you when you were never there for me,'' she whined, and took a step closer to me, her soft and well moisturised hands reaching for me. Her delicate perfume enveloped and smothered me. How I had missed that smell. And her. It was n't her fault, it was true that I had n't really been able to help her. I leant towards her slightly and took in her appearance fully. 
 
 She was just how I remembered her. Incredibly smooth skin, that was so flawless it looked as though she was a porcelain doll. Bright, sparkling eyes and a matching sparkling smile. Her lips looked so pink, so raw yet soft. I watched her plump lips dance as she treated me to the sound of her tinkling voice. 
 
 `` I'm ready to forgive you though,'' she murmured, stepping closer to me. I could feel her sweet breath, a comforting contrast to the sharp evening air. Her hands cupped my face and I sighed into them. I leant down to finally kiss her once again and make her mine. A smile creeped onto her face as she moved even closer to me. 
 
 `` I think I still love you,'' I mumbled, and her lips finally, eagerly met mine. It was like the first time all over again, a fire in my belly, morphing into a display of intricate fireworks that leapt around the shoal of butterflies that cloaked me. But then the butterflies began to fall one by one, until they created a carpet of death and dread in my stomach. The fireworks began to burn holes inside of me, and the fire grew out of control with them, swelling like a beast, trying to engulf my body, forcing its way through my veins and to my heart. I pushed her away, her eyes wild and questioning. 
 
 `` No,'' I breathed as she made towards me again. I looked her firmly in the eye. `` No. You need to leave, and never come back. I do n't know why, but I do know what game you're playing.'' 
 
 She made a choking sound, too startled to form a fresh argument. 
 
 `` You say I was never there for you,'' I shuddered with the agonising memory, `` and yet when my mother died, you said you could n't be with me to support me because of work because you were completely tied up, when in reality you were cheating on me.'' 
 
 `` Kevin,'' she murmured, her expression pained. 
 
 `` No, Carol, I know your game,'' I repeated, `` you wo n't manipulate me anymore. I do n't need you. I do n't want you. Not truly.'' 
 
 For a moment I thought she was going to burst into tears, and perhaps she did too, because she instead lunged at me, her face screwed into its true, unmasked self. I slammed the door and left her screeching my name outside. I collapsed onto the sofa and turned the TV up louder to block our her shrill cries. I retrieved my phone and opened a new message. 
 
 KEVIN: Mum, I'm sorry that it took so long but I finally did it. She'll be gone for good by my choice. I should have listened to you when you said she was no good for me, but as you used to say, better late than never. 
 
 I sighed and sent the message, placing my phone on the table in front of me. Perhaps it was silly to message someone who would n't see it. I pattered into the kitchen and retrieved a large needle, and scissors. I pulled the blanket back over my lap. I had unravelled too much to be able to easily fix it and put it back to how it was. I cut some of the loose thread away and began to sew the raw edge up. It would be shorter than it was, but it would n't be broken anymore. 

