Soundtrack: Broken by Seether & Amy Lee.
Grey had popped up again in that way that Grey always did: no prior warning, no heads up, no nothing. My doorbell would ring or my phone would buzz, and he’d be right there. Yo, I’m in town, what are you up to?
This time, though, the text had a little addition: I need to see you.
I was still raging angry at him for the Rachel situation, then the Katy situation, but that one word – need – made me want to respond. So, I did. It was a terrible idea… and I knew it. I didn’t tell Bestie about the text exchange; that’s how much of a bad idea it was. I rarely hid things or lied to Bestie, but I found myself doing that on Grey’s behalf on more than one occasion.
“What do you need?” I asked. No niceties. Grey didn’t deserve them.
“Are you around tonight?” he asked.
“Time?”
“8pm. I’ll be in the usual spot around the corner.”
Best Intentions
My intention was to turn up looking absolutely fabulous and the sexiest that he had ever seen me, then turn him down. Fuck you. This is what you could’ve won. Prick. It didn’t quite go that way, though. I had one glass of wine with our dinner, and that, was that: we were right back in our familiar pattern. He flirted without flirting. I tried to play it cool, but failed miserably. Ten minutes after he’d paid for our meal I was riding his dick in his hotel room, because there is definitely something about those damn hotel rooms.
Still, at least it wasn’t my bedroom. I didn’t fancy the idea of spilling the beans to Bestie, who, quite rightfully hated Grey at that point.
“You really did need me, huh?” I laughed afterwards.
“Actually,” he said, sitting up straight… and seemingly as far away from me as possible. “I need to tell you something.”
My blood ran ice cold. For a split second I wondered if I could just peg it out of his hotel room, out of the whole hotel, and right back to my man-less bed. “What do you need to tell me?” I said instead.
Girlfriend
He shifted further away. “I have a girlfriend now. She’s in Cyprus. I think you’d like her.”
I laughed. I mean, what the fuck else could I do? We had just fucked. His jizz hadn’t even dried on my stomach yet. We were both still naked, and he was revealing a whole-ass girlfriend to me. I was vulnerable, for fuck’s sake. And let’s not even mention the fact that I’d not long been through the whole The Postman-cheating debacle. Not that Grey knew about that, but that’s not the point. Twice in a month is ridiculous.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
“You couldn’t have told me that before we came back to your hotel room?” I was starting to get very angry despite my best efforts. It’s not like we had ever discussed exclusivity. I didn’t have a ‘claim’ to Grey at all. He wasn’t mine. But like, he wasn’t mine before I’d slept with him. I’m not sure it would made much of a difference, honestly, but fuck, it would’ve been nice to know beforehand.
“I was going to tell you…” His voice trailed off.
“But you had to get laid first, right?” My voice was now dripping with scorn.
“That’s not fair.”
I snorted, climbed off the bed, then scrambled around to put my clothes back on, tripping over my own feet in the process. “You know what, Grey? Fuck off. Your girlfriend – and fucking Cyprus – can fucking keep you.”
I stormed out the room because I had to, because tears were streaming down my face and he definitely did not deserve to see them, because I thought I was going to vomit, because I couldn’t believe what he had done…
I walked all the way home, furiously brushing tears from my cheeks and berating myself for not having sunglasses in my bag to hide them. Grey drove past in the Batmobile more than once; making sure that I’d gotten home safely, I assumed. I just pretended not to see him.
By the time I reached my front door, I could no longer contain or control the tears. Bestie was there, and I didn’t have the energy to lie to him about it. It all came out in a long, snotty, gasping-for-breath conversation that neither of us ever mentioned again.
As for Grey, I never wanted to see or hear from him ever again. He’d made a fool of me too many damn times now, and I just couldn’t have that.
What an absolute waste of my time.
What an absolute fucking cunt.
Who knew that he was no better than the rest of them, after all?
The next blog post in the dating timeline is this one: Number 23: The Virgin.
Thank you so much for reading my blog today! 🖤
Want to read all about My Mr. Grey’s story, right from the very beginning? You’ll find that right here.
You can also read all about my disastrous dating history, right from the beginning, right here: Table of Dating Contents.
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