Please pick up. Things went wrong with Jake. He... he took everything. I'm stuck here. Can we just talk? I miss us.
Desperation ramped up. More texts:
I know I hurt you, but I was confused. Vegas was a wake-up call. You're the real deal.
Then her best friend Sarah got involved. Toxic as ever—the one who'd encouraged the trip. My phone rang one afternoon at work. I answered, thinking it was a client.
"Alex, it's Sarah. Listen, Zoe's in a bad spot. That guy's a creep. Stole her money, left her high and dry. She's crashing on a couch, scraping by with gig work. You need to help her."
I kept my tone even. "Sarah, that's not my responsibility anymore."
She huffed, an unpleasant edge sharpening. "Oh, come on! After four years, you're just going to abandon her? She said you were always the reliable one. Prove it. Send some cash, or at least talk to her! She's crying every night."
Hypocrisy dripped from her words. Abandon her? Like Zoe hadn't abandoned me?
"She chose this path. I'm out."
I hung up. Blocked her, too.
Zoe escalated. Emails now, since texts weren't working: