He'd been told to leave. So he packed up and left. Left his fresh young bride, and her child that he loved and adopted. He was only 21. But she'd told him to leave, and he always did what she told him to do.
Once he'd landed back home, to a home he'd left for her, his heart ached. He'd left her, and he regretted it horribly. He wanted desperately to work things out, and go back to the girls he loved so very much.
So he tried to reach back out to her, over the phone. He called her relentlessly for days.
When he finally got through to her he asked her desperately. "What's going on..?!?"
"What do you think?!?"
"You don't want me back, do you??"
"No I don't!" She hung up.
He broke down and cried, like he hadn't cried in his entire life. When he was done, he got up and grabbed the last rose she had given him, now dried out on his bedside table.
He rushed outside to get fresh air, and crumpled the dried rose in his palm, dropping it to the fresh spring grass.
His marriage had ended over the phone. From then on, he hated talking on the phone.
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