Texting The Wrong Number

Chapter 1: The Mistext Mishap

Here is the first chapter
I hope you all like it,and Before you start reading the story, make sure to read the important part first.

Also, let me clarify here: this story does not contain any intimate scenes, so if that's what you're looking for, this may not be it. This is a rom-com that will definitely put a sweet smile on your face, I'm sure of that!

That’s all I wanted to say, so let's start with the first chapter.

Emma Carson slouched on her couch, staring at
her phone screen with a scowl. She let out a long sigh before taking another sip of wine. It was one thing to have a bad date; it was another to go out with a guy like Brad who couldn't seem to hold a single thought in his head for more than ten seconds.

Twenty-eight, recently single, and exhausted from the dating apps, Emma was ready to give up on love altogether. She was a graphic designer who had a flair for creativity, but when it came to relationships, her love life felt like a failed art project.

The longer she stared at her screen, the more her irritation grew, until it all boiled over.

She opened a new text message to her best friend, Sophie, and started venting.

∆Emma: UGH. Brad is the WORST. I mean,
canceling a date last minute AGAIN because “Call of Duty with the guys” is so much more important. Honestly, I’m done!

The thought of Sophie’s supportive responses made her feel better already. Sophie had always
been her go-to for a shoulder to cry on and a voice of reason, especially when it came to the endless parade of disappointing dates Emma had been enduring lately.

With her mind fully occupied by her rant, Emma didn’t double-check the number before hitting send. She put her phone down and sank deeper
into the couch, feeling oddly lighter after letting it all out.

But then, her phone buzzed.
She picked it up, expecting a classic Sophie comeback like “ditch him, he’s a dud!” Instead, she saw:

∆Unknown Number: Wow, either your friend is the worst boyfriend ever, or he’s extremely dedicated to his Call of Duty ranking. Sorry you’re going through this, but, uh… who are you?

Emma’s stomach dropped. Oh no. She quickly checked the number she’d texted and realized she was one digit off from Sophie’s. Heat rose to her cheeks as she realized she’d just vented her frustrations about her disastrous love life to a complete stranger. She had to fix this—fast.

 

∆Emma: OMG, I’m SO sorry! Wrong person!

She prayed the stranger would just ignore her, maybe send a polite “no problem,” and let it be.
But a few seconds later, her phone buzzed again.

∆ Unknown Number: No problem! That’s probably the best wrong-number text I’ve ever gotten. Go on, rant away. Sounds like this Brad guy deserves it!

Emma’s embarrassment turned to surprise. Instead of brushing her off, this stranger actually seemed interested. His message had a friendliness that was comforting, and before she knew it, she felt herself wanting to respond.

∆Emma: Haha, well… let’s just say he wasn’t a winner. But really, I won’t dump my problems on a random stranger.

∆Unknown Number: No, please! I’m invested now. This sounds like an epic dating horror story.

Emma couldn’t help but laugh. She hadn’t laughed like that in days. Somehow, just knowing she was texting someone she’d probably never meet gave her the courage to let loose.

She didn’t know this person, but that also meant she didn’t have to hold back, didn’t have to put on a filter.

∆Emma: Well, since you asked… Here’s the deal: Brad was one of those guys who “forgets” his
wallet on the first date, says he’s looking for “a real connection” but only texts after 10 p.m., and
actually thinks posting gym selfies is a personality trait.

∆Unknown Number: Yikes. A “10 p.m. texter”? That’s a red flag if I’ve ever seen one. I’d take Call of Duty over him too, honestly.

Emma laughed again, this time harder. This random stranger was not only funny but quick-
witted, something she’d always valued in a person.

∆Emma: Exactly! I don’t even know why I went out with him for so long. I guess I just kept hoping he’d magically become interesting.

∆ Unknown Number: Nah, some people are a lost cause. Sounds like you’re better off. Consider thisone… a dodged bullet.

Emma pictured the stranger on the other end of the phone. Was he just as charming in person, or was he just good at texting? Either way, she felt oddly drawn in. It was freeing to talk to someone with no stakes, no expectations.

∆Emma: So, do you get random relationship rants often? Or was this just good timing?

∆ Unknown Number: Ha, no, this is definitely a first. I guess I’m your accidental therapist? I’ll send you the bill later. ;)

∆Emma: Only if it’s pro-bono. I’m not paying for a therapy session I didn’t book!

As the conversation continued, Emma found herself smiling more and more. They exchanged a few more messages, each one funnier than the last. She didn’t even know this person’s name, and yet, here they were, trading sarcastic remarks as if they’d known each other for years.
The person on the other end was Liam.

Thirty years old, a web developer with a talent for dad jokes and a recently acquired new phone number. After a string of forgettable dates and a somewhat boring social life, his evening had just taken an unexpected turn. He’d barely expected a reply, but he was amused by Emma’s unfiltered honesty. Her texts were lively, smart, and refreshingly real.
Liam’s phone buzzed again.

∆Emma: Okay, I’m officially out of relationship horror stories for now. Thanks for letting me vent, Mr. Wrong Number. You’re a surprisingly good listener.

∆ Liam: Anytime, “Miss Right Number.” You’ve got the best sense of humor out of anyone I’ve
accidentally met through a text mistake.

∆Emma: You know, you don’t seem half bad either… for a stranger. Guess I’ll just leave it at that.

Emma sat with a satisfied smile as she put her phone away. For the first time in weeks, she felt good. Her random venting session with a stranger had left her feeling lighter, and as she turned off her lamp and pulled up her blanket, she couldn’t help but think about him—whoever he was.

Somewhere across town, Liam chuckled to himself as he set down his phone. He hadn’t even asked her real name, but something about their chat had him smiling, too. And he wondered, just for a moment, if they’d ever end up talking again.