Soundtrack: Otherside by InMe.
Whisky and I were having a perfectly lovely Saturday morning on the couch, with football highlights or something similar on the TV, when it happened. We had the flat to ourselves for the weekend, so we fucked all Friday night, then lounged all Saturday afterwards. I made a proper English breakfast for us both, with some square sausage for my man, of course. I couldn’t stand square sausages myself, though I couldn’t ever put my finger on why. Afterwards, Whisky made ‘proper coffee’ with a cafetiere. Then, we lounged on the couch, wrapped in duvets, kissing and holding hands and talking shit about this n’ that.
It was perfection… despite the ‘hiccups’ that it had taken us to get there.
Perfectly Lovely…
Our perfectly lovely Saturday was shattered by the loud buzz of my doorbell.
“Want me to get it?” Whisky asked.
“Nah, I’ll get rid of them,” I replied, throwing a dressing gown on over boxer shorts (his) and t-shirt (also his.)
I pottered downstairs, threw open the door… and came face-to-face with My Mr. Grey. Well, shit.
“Oh… um… yeah… hello,” I stammered. He was the last person I’d expected to see, honestly. With the exception of that one birthday incident, I’d all but forgotten that Grey had existed once Whisky and I reconciled.
“Gonna invite me in then?” Grey laughed.
“Oh… I can’t right now,” I said, grimacing.
“You got a boy in there?”
I nodded.
“Okay,” Grey said, clapping his hands together. “Tonight? I’d like to talk.”
My love life was imploding right in front of me. The world seemed to fade to black around us, and I honestly couldn’t remember my own name, let alone whether or not I had plans that night.
“I’ll text you later,” I answered, essentially slamming the door in his face, taking a couple of deep breaths before heading back upstairs to Whisky, my fiancé.
“Who was it?” Whisky asked.
“Oh, just someone for Bestie,” I lied.
We returned to our lounging on the couch, but I couldn’t get Grey out of my mind. I swung between curiosity, wanting to know what he wanted to talk about; and rage, because how dare he turn up once I’d found happiness. Again. For what, the fourth or fifth time now? And what happened the last time? I chose him, and he didn’t choose me!
No.
I couldn’t go on that rollercoaster ride with him again. My head ran away with itself every single time we spent time together; then, he’d tell me about a different country, or a girlfriend, or a commitment issue, or something, that meant we couldn’t be in an actual relationship.
Saturday Night
By the time I’d text Grey, then got ready to meet him at one of our regular spots, I was fuming. I was curt and abrupt with him in the car, then barely spoke in the bar.
“Are you okay?” he asked, once we finally had drinks and were seated in a corner booth.
“No, I’m not okay,” I hissed, as quietly as I could. “What do you want?”
“Well… you.”
I snorted. “For the night? I’m fully booked, sorry.”
“No,” he said, shaking his head. “The girlfriend… well, she’s not my girlfriend now. I should’ve picked you.”
“She dumped you?”
“No, well, yes. It was more of a mutual decision, really.”
It was my turn for a head shake. “You are unbelievable, you know that? You do this every time. How many times do we need to have this exact conversation? You don’t want me. You just don’t want anyone else to have me.”
“That’s not how it is!” he interrupted, holding up his hand. “That’s not fair.”
I stood up and thrust my ring-clad hand towards him, not caring that other people in the bar were starting to look at us. “You’re too late. The boy in my flat earlier? He’s not just some boy. We’re engaged now. Whatever you’re trying to do here? It’s too little, too late. It’s not going to work. I have chosen him. You have to stop!”
I stormed out of the bar and started stomping home. Grey ran out after me, but I knew he’d do that.
“NotSo, stop, please!”
“Leave me alone, or I’ll scream.”
He didn’t follow me after that, but just like he always did, Grey drove past a couple of times as I walked home. He was a prick, but he always mad sure I got home safe, at least.
I just wanted to get home to my soon-to-be husband. Didn’t I?
The next blog post in the dating timeline is this one: Haunting.
Thank you so much for reading my blog today! 🖤
Would you like to read all about The Ex-Husband’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.
Alternatively, why not have a little peek around here: