Ghosting Txt Novels & Stories

I slipped into the booth I’d reserved, smoothing my dress again, setting my phone face-up on the table. Ten minutes passed. I checked my messages. Nothing new. I typed “I'm here” on my phone and deleted it. I didn’t want to sound impatient; Mike didn’t like that, and I didn’t want to sound like the girl who cared too much. I called. No answer. My chest tightened, but I brushed it off. Ghosting wasn't an option- it was our anniversary, but this wasn’t new. Mike ghosted sometimes—during exam weeks, during stress spirals. I’d learned how to wait without asking questions.

The only person I could turn to in a time like now was my best friend who had ghosted me for days. I remembered how heartbroken I had been when I woke up the morning after our passionate lovemaking to find that he was gone. I could still remember how I had, with tear-filled eyes, called his number several times and had only gotten his voicemail. I had tried texting him on W******p too but he had blocked me. I had tried Snapchat, iMessage, I*******m, and even LinkedIn because I had been desperate for answers—I still was. But today, I was desperate enough to go look for him at home, holding onto a thread of hope that there was a reasonable explanation for his sudden coldness.

And Maddox, that bastard—he looked like a man who knew exactly what he was doing. My jaw clenched as the ice cream started dripping onto my fingers. I shut the photo, forcing myself to breathe. Then I opened the last message I’d sent to the anonymous number. “Who are you?” Still no reply. No read receipt. No status update. Nothing. Just a message floating in a void like I’d been ghosted by a devil. I tossed the phone beside me, wiped my fingers on my shirt, and sat up. That was it. I was tired of waiting.

But another part, the numb and curious part that had been starving for something real, whispered louder. Aria bit her lip, this time not entirely for the camera. “Give me one minute, Ghost.” She quickly ended the public stream, switched to private mode, and typed her reply with slightly shaky fingers. Aria: Plans canceled. I’m all yours tonight. The response was almost instant. Ghost has tipped $15,000. Followed by a new private message that sent a genuine shiver down her spine: Ghost: Good girl. Now spread your legs for me and let’s begin.

"He said nothing. Zero. He just pushed me out and said it was for the best. Not calling." One empty bottle of Merlot later, the phone is in my hand anyway. The call goes unanswered. "Told you," I say, showing Aria the screen. "Ghosted." "Wow. That's cold." She shrugs. "Better to know now." "What does that mean?" "Imagine six months from now, or a year, and then he disappears. This way you didn't have time to get attached." A laugh almost escapes because the truth is crueler than that.

I had to bottle up everything. And somehow, he was back! A part of me wanted to ignore him. I wanted to pay him back for leaving me that way. But I was also curious. I wanted to give him a chance to explain. Plus I was really in the middle of too much stress. Having someone to talk to wasn’t a bad idea. I read through his message again, thinking of the best way to reply. Hi, Ashley. I know you missed me so much. I'm just teasing. I'm sorry for ghosting. I did not mean for that to happen. How are you? Where are you? I have so many questions. I know you do too. Do not pay me back in my coin. Please, reply.

Sarah dragged me to a campus party on Friday night, but even surrounded by loud music and dancing bodies, my mind was elsewhere. “You keep checking your phone,” Sarah shouted over the music. “Waiting for someone special?” I forced a laugh. “Sort of. I met this girl last week. We’ve been friends online forever. I thought we had a connection, but now she’s ghosting me.” Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Give her space but don’t wait forever. You deserve someone who’s excited to see you.”

“Gonna wreck you in a real bed next time. Lights on. So I can watch your face when I make you come again. And again.” Heat flooded my cheeks. My thighs clenched hard. He turned, started walking back toward the group—whistling like nothing happened. I stared at the contact name glowing on my screen. Smiled so wide it hurt. Already typing. Me: You’re insane. I hit send before I could overthink it. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out, read it, glanced back at me over his shoulder with that wicked grin. The Ghost Who Fucked You Senseless: You love it. I bit my lip. Yeah. I really, really did.

Walk away from the life that just comes to reality I squeezed my eyes shut, willing myself to breathe. Suddenly, my phone rang, making me jump. I fumbled for it, my fingers shaky, and when I saw Sandra’s name on the screen, I hesitated before answering. “Finally!” Sandra’s voice came through, full of her usual dramatic energy. “You’ve been ghosting me! Not even a single call? What’s your excuse, huh?” I let out a tired sigh. “Sorry, babe. It’s just… a lot.”

I’ve been ghosted. Okay, technically, it’s only been twenty-four hours. But in girl math, that’s like six months, especially when you’re waiting for a text from a helicopter pilot who called you “Sticky” like it was the most charming thing he’s ever said in his life. Theo. THEO.