Dial My Heart

Braids in a bun, fuzzy pajama pants, rocky road ice cream, and The Doctor. Justice King planned a weekend of seclusion and recovery. No phone calls. No visitors. No reminders of the wedding that didn't happen. Just a pity party with her as the guest of honor; well, technically the only guest. Some people said she was depressed. Others asked why she wasn't. Her demeanor was calm on the surface, though a storm of rage and despair boiled beneath. And all she wanted to do was understand why. Ted Braun was the love of her life. Their wedding day was supposed to be the happiest day of her life—full of love, friends, and family. But as she sat in her living room—just one week later—it had become a dreaded memory. A memory that ended with a simple text that read, “I just can't.” But it wasn't the loss that stirred her emotions. It was the changes she made to accommodate his lifestyle. They met their senior year at Georgetown. Justice's plan was to go to grad school and eventually become a college professor. But Ted convinced her to get certified as an elementary school teacher, so that she could support them while he went to law school. That was six years ago, and all she had to show for it was an engagement ring that he used her money to buy and shattered dreams. Justice moved from her sleepy hometown to the suburbs of a big city, so that Ted could climb the ranks at a big law firm. She left her friends, family, and a job she loved. All because she loved him more. But it was all made pointless via text message. Ted had become wasted time. But more than that, with three vague words he left her empty and on the verge of hopelessness. Justice was broken and nothing any of her family or friends said could change that. Her phone sat on the coffee table with the message up on the screen. She read it over and over; hoped each time it would reveal something different. She studied each word—every syllable—as if a hidden message would jump out at her. But nothing ever did. Justice wanted to delete it—him. But she couldn't let go of the man she gave her all to; her first love, her first kiss, her first everything. And deep down, she wanted to believe that one day he would return and she would be Mrs. Braun. "Delusional creatures." The Doctor spoke as if he knew her, and Justice knew he was right. She was delusional. But her delusions were all that she had left. “They’ll never get it. But...” As he continued to speak, Justice grabbed the remote control and muted the TV. In general, she watched just to look at him; his gorgeous chocolate waves, soul-piercing brown eyes, and deviant crooked grin. But as her need for company grew, so did her desire to hear her favorite Doctor speak with his Scottish accent. His voice canceled out the silence perfectly and distracted her from her delusions. Justice settled in with her ice cream and a fluffy blanket, prepared for an all-night marathon. Historical figures, aliens, monsters, and unrequited love; it was one of Justice's favorite shows with one of her favorite actors. Before Ted, she spent weekends immersed in stories filled with action and adventures. And then there were the fantasies about being the one that the Doctor noticed before it was too late. Fantasies that ended with her out of breath and exhausted. And with Ted out of her life, Justice figured the Doctor could heal her. As Justice laid back and got comfortable, while her finger crept across her stomach and past the waistband of her panties, a bright light invaded the darkness. She sprung up when her phone came to life on the table with a buzz. Dread settled into her mind as thoughts of her mother's lectures about relationships with white guys, and her sister's attempts to set her up on dates, invaded. Someone always wanted her to go out, meet someone new, and get on with her life. But it all fell apart less than a week prior, and Justice wasn't ready for that. All she wanted was to hear Ted tell her that he was wrong and wanted her back. "Don't touch that," the Doctor screamed, when Justice reached for her phone. She backed away and looked back and forth between the phone and the TV. He's not talking to me. Justice c****d a brow and picked up the phone. "Put it down." Justice looked at the Doctor and wondered if he could see her. Justice paused the TV and checked the caller id. When she saw an unfamiliar number, Justice rejected the call and turned her attention back to her show; and the fantasy. But she couldn’t get too deep into either. Because within minutes, the screen lit up again. "Hello," Justice said when she picked up. "Please don't hang up." The voice on the other end was shaky. Justice looked at the phone and wondered if Ted had changed his number. "Teddy bear?" Justice's heart fluttered and her limbs felt heavy. "Teddy bear?" The slur of alcohol became clearer, the more he spoke. "You call him Teddy Bear?" There was dead air for a moment, then the man blurted, "I don't care. I can be your Teddy Bear. I can be what you want me to be; need me to be. I can forget what happened. Please give me another chance." "Who is this?" "I get it. I'm not the man that you thought you were marrying. I know that things were different than you expected. But I can change," he said. "I am nothing without you. I have nothing to live for without you." "I... Are you okay," Justice asked, afraid of what he said and what it could mean. "Okay?" Silence. Then he huffed, "Of course I'm not okay. I haven't been okay since you left. I won't be okay without you.' "Look, I'm sorry you're hurting. But I think you got the wrong number or something." She paused, then added, "I'm not the person you're looking for." "Wait, you're not Vic?" "No. I'm sorry." Ragged breaths and deep sighs were all that came through the line. "Oh God, I..." There was a gasp, followed by a muffled sob. "I... I'm so sorry. I thought this was... I mean. This isn't her number?" "I'm sorry," Justice replied. "This isn't her—" "I mean. She left, just like that. Gone without a word. And I love her so much it hurts." His sobs became louder and he cried out, "How could you leave me like that?" "I'm not her," Justice huffed. "Stop yelling at me. I didn't do anything to you." "I'm sorry." Justice took a deep breath and calmed down. "No. I'm sorry." She thought about what the man said and how much his situation mirrored her own. "I know how you feel. The pain and the betrayal." "Someone broke your heart?" "Yeah, you could say that." Justice couldn't hide the bitterness in her tone. As memories of Ted overtook her, a whimper escaped. "But, that doesn't matter. The fact is, I'm not the one who hurt you. So, I guess..." "She didn't just hurt me. She crushed me," he said, "I gave her everything and she just... crushed me." Justice bit the inside of her cheek and a groan rumbled from her chest. She wanted to crawl back to her misery and not dwell on someone else's. But she realized that for the first time since Ted left, she had someone to talk to that understood what she was going through. And it helped that he was a stranger. "Look, I get that you need someone to talk to. But, I'm not in the position to help you. I have my own heartbreak to deal with." "What happened to you?" His voice steadied and sounded genuinely interested. Before she could stop to think, the words came out. "My fiancé left me last week. On our wedding day." "That's terrible," he said in almost a whisper. "I'm so sorry." Justice relaxed and exhaled for what felt like the first time since her heart was broken. This strange man, who she would never meet face-to-face, showed her something most of the people in her life didn't; compassion without judgement. She sat back on the couch and threw her legs up on the table, then continued to tell the story."Yeah, I was at the church getting ready, when I received a text that said, I just can't. There was no apology. No explanation. Nothing. I mean... what the f**k? I gave him six years of love and loyalty. And what did I get?" Tears streamed from her eyes while sobs escaped. A deep sigh from the other end echoed Justice's pain. She stopped to collect her thoughts, then said, "Again, I'm sorry for your pain. But, I'm not her and this is weird." "As weird as it seems, isn't it kinda nice having someone to talk to?" The silence between them was tense, and Justice wanted to end the call. But she couldn't bring herself to do so. He was right and she wanted more; more comradery, more companionship. For the first time in a week, Justice didn't feel like the loser that people pitied. Then the silence broke, the tension thickened, and thoughts of regret surfaced. "I don't want to be alone... shouldn't be. And you sound like you could use the company. Will you come over?" "I'm not sure that's a good idea," Justice replied. "I don't even you're your name." "Robert," he said. "I'm Robert Evans." "Wow, you just gave me that like it was no big deal," Justice said. "For all you know, I could be a serial killer." "If you are," Robert began, "You're the nicest one I've met." "You've met serial killers?" "I just mean you're nice," he corrected. "One of the nicest people I've come across since... Look, I get that we don't know each other. But if I'm not wrong, you were drowning your sorrows like I was, right?" "I wasn't drinking," she said. "My poison is Honey Jack and Coke. But, I bet yours is something like brownies. Or ice cream. Maybe even both." "No." Her tone was indignant, but mostly because he was right. Am I that much of a cliché? "No brownies? No ice cream? Or no, you won't come over?" Tears welled in her eyes when she realized that she was a cliché—the girl who drowned her sorrows in a gallon of ice cream because of a man. She sat straight up and blurted, "You know what? I'm in." Justice flung off her blanket and sprung to her feet. "Where do you live?" "Downtown. On fifth and E." He sounded unsure at first. Then he asked, "So, you're coming over?" "Why not? What's the worst that could happen? If you kill me, I won"t have to deal with my mom's lectures anymore. And if you don't..." Justice shrugged. She walked to her bedroom and said, "I'm probably gonna take a cab. I hate driving downtown at night." "I can send a car for you," he said. "What's your address?" "I'd feel better taking a cab." Justice grabbed a shirt and a pair of jeans, then realized that she hadn't showered. "I'm gonna hop in the shower. I'll be there in like a half an hour or so." "Okay," he said. "I'll text you my address?" "Sounds good." She hung up that phone, then walked over to her closet. "He may be a stranger," she muttered to herself,  "But there's only one reason that he would've invited me over." She grabbed a dress and took it with her to the bathroom, along with a lacy bra and matching panties. Justice quickly shaved her legs and showered, then got dressed. She pulled her long braids out of the bun and let them hang. Then put on a little lip gloss. She wasn't nightclub ready, but definitely a far cry from the hot mess she was earlier.