Wrong Number

It's been two years since the love of your life walked out on you in your sophomore year of college for some twenty-something-year-old and moved to California. Suddenly in your loft two years later you receive a call.

"Hello?" your raspy voice cracks noticing the time, two fucking thirty in the morning.

"Um hello, I'm calling for Nalah Washington?" the voice echos through your ear. You can hear the nervousness in his voice.

"Maybe a prank call," you thought to yourself.

"May I ask who's calling sir?" you speak, a little demanding tone is heard on the receiving end.

"This is Grayson Dolan-"the line goes dead as you slam the phone down onto your countertop.

"Can't be, why would he fucking call me of all people?" you mumble to yourself as you cover your face with your hands sighing heavily.

A fit physique forms in the kitchen doorway, your boyfriend wraps his arm around you wondering what have you in distress.

"Something wrong?" he asks raking your jet black hair out of your face.

"No, Somone must've had the wrong number.."