The Ex Project

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teXts

I tried not to laugh as he took the paper from me, shaking his head in disbelief as he gazed at it in stunned silence.

"What's the fucking point in this?" he hissed, pushing his hand through his hair, shooting a glare in the direction of the counsellors who were watching us carefully.

"Maybe to prove that we trust each other. Here you go."

I handed him mine with a broad smile, trying not to smirk when he swore under his breath.

"What's wrong Jason?" I asked innocently as he dug his phone out of his pocket.

"How long for?" he asked gruffly, as he slid the phone over to me. "I've got to have that for work-"

"It says here two days, you can use mine?" I shrugged, wondering what the hell he was so upset about.

"Why does this help us build trust?"

"What's the problem Jason?! Just stop moaning about it. You've got my phone."

I put his phone in my bag as I studied the rest of the sheet.

Oh. God.

First thing was first.

"What's your unlock code?" Jason sighed, as I shifted uncomfortably.

"The same one I've always had."

"Your birthday? I told you to change that, anyone could guess it," he grumbled, before punching in the number onto the screen before him.

"What's yours?" I mumbled, as I stared at the blank screen.

"Fifteen-eleven. Easy to do one handed," he shrugged, as he peered at my screen.

"Ok, can you all meet up in two days and exchange phones. Then I would like you to complete the next two tasks before we meet again next week," trilled the group leader, making my heart race. We stood up and I pushed his phone into my pocket, annoyed when it wouldn't fit.

"It's too big," I complained, as his mouth twitched with a smile. "Your phone. Must be compensating for something." I snapped, as he chuckled.

"Whatever you say."

"Fine. I'll see you in two days," I huffed, walking in the direction of the door.

"I'll text you," he called after me, as I shot him a look.

"What do you want me to say to all your little bitches?" I drawled, enjoying the look of discomfort on his face.

"Excuse me. I don't have little bitches texting me. Well, except for my boss..."

"I'm serious. I'm not going to be arranging your booty calls."

"Alright, if any girls try and arrange booty calls, feel free to tell them to fuck off."

"Oh, I will. Or I could just tell them who you really are."

"And what about you? If you get any calls or messages?"

I sent him a sweet smile.

"Give them your number."

He didn't respond, only to wave in my direction dismissively.

I left the building, immediately turning left and heading to the nearest coffee shop.

I had Jason's phone!

This was glorious.

I ordered a large Americano, before settling down with his phone before me. Obviously it was the latest model, and I couldn't help but admire the sleek casing as I ran my finger down the back of it. The screen lit up as I pressed the phone code in, my heart in my mouth as his menu screen came up.

Part of me didn't want to know; yet a huge part of me did. Jason always had his phone with him. Anything he would have been up to would be on there.

Anything.

His social media accounts were there, hovering beneath my thumb as I paused, deciding to instead click onto the text message icon. The green envelope had been taunting me since the screen revealed itself, and I closed my eyes as the screen changed.

Four lines.

That's it? Four lines of text messages?

I frowned, my eyes scanning them greedily as I noticed the number wasn't saved, and it was mainly referring to work. Asking him to work extra, cover sickness- that kind of thing. I clicked off the text messages, before delving into his social media accounts. This must be where the main stuff was.

I don't know what I was looking for exactly, maybe evidence that he was still a cheating, lying whore bag.

I sucked in a breath as I saw he had new messages on one account, and I peered at the screen. I couldn't see the profile photo without clicking on it, and knew if I clicked on the message it would mean it would show that Jason had read it, even though he hadn't.

Fuck it, what have I got to lose?

I clicked on the message, seeing a pretty face smiling back at me.

Hey, I hope you don't mind the message. It was really good to meet you the other night, and I know you told me you were kind of in a relationship, I just wanted to say if you ever 'aren't' in one, you can call me. We could have more wine and maybe even see a movie together? Let me know either way? Cassie xx

My stomach burned with jealousy as I began to stalk her profile. Who the fuck was Cassie? When had he met her? She had photos on her profile of her and her friends on nights out, and I had to say she looked to young for him.

Wait, why did I care?

I went back to the inbox, disappointed when I found nothing else. I mean, he could've deleted them, but he had tonnes of messages from everyone else- even the abusive drunken ones from Cindy.

I found myself going in to his gallery, feeling tears well up in my eyes when I saw he still had photos of me and him saved there. There were no selfies or anything of him alone, but plenty of stupid albums saved of gifs and jokes. I tried not to laugh as I went through them, before realising I'd pretty much inhaled the contents of his phone in less than an hour. I blinked as I looked around, noticing the weather had took a turn for the worse. The sky had turned angry and grey, dark clouds threatening to allow the heavens to open all over us. I reached for my phone, when I groaned. I didn't have the bus app on here, bookmarked with my favourite stop. I swiped through about an hundred apps until I finally located one that allowed me to go onto the internet, and I began typing the bus website in.

That's when I saw it.

Search history.

Was I really going to look in his search history?!

Thunder rumbled outside, and I swore under my breath. I had work tomorrow, so i needed to go home, sort my clothes out and wash and dry my hair. It was tedious, but if I didn't wash it every other day it looked like it was swimming in oil. I went to text Cindy to see if she was in tomorrow, when I realised I didn't have my phone.

Shit.

If I texted her from this one she would never believe it was me. I'd explain when I saw her at work next. I decided I would go through his search history later, before dropping his phone into my bag.

What entertainment would I find there?

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