22. The Hot One Continued
TWENTY-TWO
The Hot One Continued
Thursday, 1 August, 11.30pm
Went to Grace’s appointment with her today. The great news was that she doesn’t need any more treatment. Fantastic. She’ll take some tablets for the next few years and be monitored. She was so relieved she burst into tears. I took her for a coffee afterwards. I know what it means now when people say someone looks like a shadow of their old self. She said she’d gone back to work but couldn’t handle it and will probably stop again for a while. I think she’s mostly recovered physically but mentally she’s finding it hard to go back to life before cancer.
It’s scary how life can be turned upside down at one stroke. It certainly makes me think about what matters to me. What is important in my life? I feel I should just be grateful for being healthy, and regard everything else as a bonus. It’s easier said than done, though, when you’re hankering after someone, and you don’t know where it’s going. A new relationship is like standing at the gates of heaven, with the other person playing God and deciding whether to let you enter the inner sanctum. Even if he does let me into his heart, what will life be like with him? Will it be beautiful forever, or will he eventually send me to the gates of hell?
Friday, 2 August, 6.30pm
The Hot One is coming over. I hope he’s not going to end it. I want more of Junior.
Saturday, 3 August, 11.00am
It was a lovely evening. And we even had a bonus round of sex this morning. No ‘talk’. I should have asked him, but I was enjoying myself and didn’t want to go there. I didn’t want to face up to whatever was on his mind.
We went to bed pretty much as soon as he arrived, then cooked dinner together. While we were eating, he confided in me about his childhood. He talked about his mum’s depression and how it made his life miserable as a child. There was little laughter or happiness as she was barely managing to cope from day to day. He said he found it hard to feel loved in his adult life as a result. I felt sorry for him but so glad that he shared that. Doesn’t that mean he feels a connection with me?
11.30am
OR was he telling me he didn’t want a relationship because he can’t love or be loved? I wish I was a mind reader. #AnyTipsPaulMcKenna?
2.30pm
Can’t stop thinking (and grinning) about this morning. It was so good, I feel moved to write another poem.
The way we kiss is steamy
And it’s making me hot and creamy
My hand reaches under your belt
You’re pleased to see me, I detect
I’m impressed – that’s some wood
You possess a fine manhood
Though it is on the large side
I’d still like it thrust inside
It’s like a super-sized giant sausage
I can’t help it, I want to pay homage
It’s very long and very fat
M&S don’t make them like that
We are working up a sweat
And you’ve made me very wet
Now I think I have your full measure
And you’re giving me so much pleasure
Wow I’m starting to lose my head
I bet I’m going very red
My pulse is racing much quicker
I think you’ve pressed my trigger
I forget myself and scream
And feel pleasure in the extreme
If I smoked, I’d have a cigarette now
That was great, wow, wow, wow
7.00pm
Got an email from the House of Sphinxes saying they’ve decided to go with another designer. Was it because I didn’t show enough love for the cats?
Off to Leila’s for dinner. Looking forward to seeing her but not Judas Jude.
Sunday, 4 August, 10.30am
I hate Jude. And Leila. Last night, I arrived at their house having decided to stay out of their marriage like Mum suggested. We had a few drinks before dinner, and everything was fine. Leila had cooked a delicious Shirin Polo with buttery rice, oodles of dried fruit, nuts and saffron, and melt-in-the-mouth lamb shanks. We were catching up on our news while we ate.
‘How’s the dating challenge going? Spill. Every. Thing,’ demanded Leila.
‘You know I’ve been seeing The Hot One?’ I gushed, ‘I like him, but he works all hours, and any spare time has to be for his kids. It’s difficult to make time for us. I think he’s into me though.’ My cheeks warmed up.
‘That must be tough, honey,’ Leila said.
‘Are you sure it’s his work that makes it difficult? Or is he just not that into you?’ Jude asked.
You’d know about deceit, Jude.
‘No, it’s his situation,’ I said, staying calm.
‘At least while you’re with him, the rest of London’s male population is safe from your cougar advances and your dating challenge,’ he said without a hint of humour.
‘That’s not nice,’ I said. My body tensed.
‘Jude, stop teasing Sophia.’
Taunting, not teasing.
‘I think he’s lucky to have you, honey. I hope he can sort out his problems, and you two can live happily ever after,’ she said cheerily. Jude didn’t comment, so I changed the subject.
‘How’s it going with the exhibition preparations?’ I asked Leila. ‘Have you found an art gallery to work with yet?’
‘I…’ started Leila, but Jude interrupted.
‘No, she hasn’t. Poor babe,’ he said as he rubbed her back. ‘She’s having to bankroll the exhibition herself because no one will take her on.’
He was taunting Leila now, and I didn’t like it. How dare he talk about her like that? She’s had several successful sculpture exhibitions way before he came along. I wondered why he was putting her down. Despite being a cheater, or because of it, he’s usually supportive of Leila’s work.
‘But that’s OK, isn’t it? If she pays for the exhibition herself, she’ll get to keep one hundred per cent of the profits,’ I said. Doh.
‘It’s just that, apparently, we have enough money to pay for an exhibition that might make a loss, but we don’t have enough money to inject into my business that’s about to take off into the stratosphere. What do you think? If there was a cool brand selling amazing handbags made of recycled materials, you’d buy one, right?’ He was addressing me but looking at Leila.
I was thinking, you’ve picked on the wrong person for support, mate. And good for her if she’s refusing to finance his business. I know that he, unlike Leila, hasn’t had much success with his past ventures – like when he opened a flip-flop shop in Sheffield in the middle of winter. He’s reached the age of forty-five without any evidence of a career.
‘Can we not discuss that tonight, please? I want us to have a lovely dinner together,’ Leila said.
‘But I only need enough to do the launch and then the money will roll in, babe,’ Jude insisted.
‘I’m sure Sophia doesn’t want to hear the details of our finances. Right, anyone for pudding?’ Leila stood up and went to the kitchen.
‘You were no help. I thought you’d want your friend to make money from a successful business,’ he snorted at me.
‘And why would I want to help you extort money out of my best friend when I know you’ve been cheating on her?’ I hissed, keeping an eye on the kitchen door.
‘Oh, you’re not still going on about that, are you? It was nothing. I’d had a row with Leila, had too many pints. That’s all. Nobody died. Nobody got hurt.’
‘But it wasn’t once, was it? I hear you’re quite a Casanova on the singles party circuit,’ I spat out.
‘What do you mean?’ He twisted his wedding band around his finger.
‘I’m on the singles scene in London, as you reminded me earlier. I hear things.’ I hadn’t heard anything.
‘Do stop the amateur sleuth act. You’re not good at it. You don’t know nothing about me.’
‘What about the singles party last Thursday then?’ I was bluffing. All I knew was that there was another party in the City.
‘Why? Were you there? Anyway, it was just a drink.’
So brazen. Even if he hadn’t been with another woman, he’d gone to the party with that intention.
‘And somebody did get hurt. My friend Izzy that you bedded then ghosted. And how about your wife? She’d be devastated if she finds out.’
‘At least I’m not a desperate sixty-year-old trying and failing to find love. You’re pathetic. Going on dating sites and picking up men all over the place. At your age. But nobody wants you. Do they?’
Did I really look like that to other people? I felt my cheeks heat up as tears nipped at my eyes, even though I knew he was just playing a power game and trying to make it about me rather than his bad behaviour.
‘Here we go, orange and cardamom cake, made by my own fair hands. Cream or ice cream, Sophia?’ Leila put the dishes on the table, then saw my anguished expression.
‘What’s the matter, honey? Are you crying?’ She came over and hugged my shoulders. ‘Jude, have you been teasing her again?’
‘She’s had too much to drink. As always. Just leave her be. She’ll sleep it off.’
‘Come on. What did you say to her?’
‘OK, OK,’ he said, putting his palms out. ‘I wanted to save you the upset, babe, but you leave me no choice. I’m embarrassed to say it, but Sophia made a move on me while you were in the kitchen, and she got upset when I rejected her. There. See what you made me do?’
‘What?’ She looked at me, then at him. He shrugged.
‘Is this true, Sophia?’ She took her hands off my shoulders.
‘No, of course it’s not true,’ I spat out. ‘I was going to tell you that your husband has been sleeping with other women. He’s fabricating this to divert your attention.’ I sneered at him. ‘See what you made me do?’
Leila slumped into her chair and looked at us, one then the other.
‘Is this true?’ she growled at Jude.
‘No, of course it’s not true, babe,’ he said. ‘She’s drunk and desperate. She’ll say anything to get out of it. Let’s just forget about the whole thing. I won’t mention it again if she won’t.’
So magnanimous. I could see Leila was starting to believe him.
‘He’s lying. He’s playing you. Surely you can see that. I can prove it,’ I said, my confidence returning. I didn’t want to drag Izzy into it. She’d done nothing wrong, but I had to convince Leila. ‘That day when you had a row with him over the waitress, he went to a singles party and had a one-night stand with my friend Izzy. You can talk to her if you want.’
‘She’s lying, babe. I went to see that special screening of Star Wars . Remember?’
‘We can call Izzy. Right now,’ I said, offering my phone.
‘No, wait a minute. I remember Jude hinting that you were flirting with him before. On a couple of occasions, in fact, and you’ve been acting weird around him for a while.’
He’d been clever – preparing her for this eventuality.
‘That’s not true. I wouldn’t do that to you, Leila. I’ve been weird around him because I knew what he’d done.’
She narrowed her eyes and gave me a disbelieving look. A look that said, ‘you’re guilty’. I WAS guilty. Guilty of not being as devious as Jude. Guilty of not anticipating how the truth could unravel. Guilty of not believing how nasty people can be when protecting themselves. I should have told her earlier. I felt wet tracks down my face.
‘I think you’d better leave.’
I looked up, thinking she was addressing Jude, but no, it was me. She turned away, shaking her head.
I stood up. ‘You’re a deluded coward, Leila. You two deserve each other,’ I said, before picking up my bag and banging the door shut behind me.
I was drenched by the time the taxi came, and as I was getting in, Jude stuck his head out of the upstairs window and shouted, ‘And don’t come back, you evil witch!’
Me and the driver stared up into the rain at him for a second before driving off.
‘Do you want to go via the offie, love?’ he asked.
I nodded. What a thoughtful man.
Monday, 5 August, 10.30pm
I went to a site visit today and one of the builders said, ‘Cheer up, love, it might never happen,’ except it has. I texted Leila this morning wanting to talk but she hasn’t replied. Is she so desperate to have a man that she chooses to believe his lies? She didn’t even ask about the proof I offered. That would mean learning the truth, and she obviously doesn’t want to do that.
I texted The Hot One and asked him to come over after work to keep me company, but he’s working late. He has an early morning meeting tomorrow so he can’t stay the night either. I wish his employers wouldn’t impose on him so much, but he’s too conscientious to refuse. I thought he’d jump at the chance to look after me. I could have done with some TLC tonight and he’s not there for me. Is this how it’s going to be?
I’ll tell Grace and Ace about Leila at some point, but I can’t face that right now.
Tuesday, 6 August, 7.30pm
I sent The Hot One a picture of two sets of bra and pants next to each other – cream and pink lacy number vs. hot red satin – and asked him which one he wanted me to wear next time he comes over. He said, ‘Wow.’ That should give him a nudge to arrange another date.
11.30pm
It worked. He’s coming round tomorrow.
P.S. He chose hot red satin. Men are so predictable.
Wednesday, 7 August, 7.00pm
Shit, shit, shit. He’s cancelled. Said he was so stressed about work he wouldn’t be able to relax with me. Bollocks! Surely if you feel stressed, the best thing for you is to be with someone who cares about you. And have sex. I was looking forward to going out tonight, and it’s too late now to try and organise something else. #FeelLetDown
10.00pm
Going to bed early tonight. Couldn’t sleep last night fuming about Leila. I texted her.
Fuck you! You disloyal fucking excuse of a friend.
She didn’t reply. I called her and left a long voice message saying I was so disappointed in her, that I didn’t know who she was anymore, and she was welcome to her cheating lying devious husband.
Thursday, 8 August, 5.00pm
Had a sweet text from The Hot One apologising for last night and wanting to make it up to me. I could do with being appreciated.
11.30pm
His company’s offices on Fetter Lane were as plush as I’d expected. The receptionist called The Hot One and gave me directions to his office. I was happy he’d asked me to meet him at his work. That surely showed he wanted his colleagues to meet me. The few people still working in the open plan area examined me as I strutted towards his office. As soon as I went in, he kissed me passionately and started grabbing at my dress. I told him I couldn’t. What if someone heard us or walked in? But he said to relax. He couldn’t wait, and we could be quiet.
The danger was a turn-on, and I thought, what the hell. We started undressing each other frantically. He swept away the stuff on his desk and lifted me onto it and himself onto me. We could have been caught at any time and that made it more exciting. I climaxed quickly and just as he was about to burst, the door opened, I turned my head to see the intruder, and something dug into my cheek. I screamed.
I touched my face and there was a dent where I’d fallen asleep on my TV remote.
Friday, 9 August, 6.30pm
No dreaming about The Hot One tonight. I’ll have the real thing. I don’t know how I’m going to sit through dinner. I’ve been in an ‘about to have an orgasm’ state all day just thinking about him. And about Junior. He pushes my trigger, but he likes to do the same things every time, sometimes in the same order. I hope he’ll be more playful this time and take my mind off Leila.
Saturday, 10 August, 11.00am
He arrived an hour late last night, by which time I was on edge and annoyed. We went for a meal, and he was distracted, rambling about work and what a tough week he’d had. Didn’t give me much of an opportunity to say anything as he was completely wrapped up in himself. Not exactly ‘making it up to me’ for the other night.
When we went back to my place, it was straight to bed and, regardless of everything, the sex was amazing. This morning he was livelier, so I put last night’s distraction down to a bad week. I was starting to relax and wonder why I’d got so worked up about everything.
‘You know I like you,’ he said. ‘You’re great company and I’d like to see more of you to do stuff together. And you’re independent. You don’t need anyone to make you complete. I like that about you.’
I thought that was so sweet, and exactly what I wanted to hear. I kissed his forehead and told him I liked him too.
‘It’s so hard at work at the moment and it often affects my personal life, working long hours and not being able to plan anything. But I need to put in the hours to protect my partnership. You understand, don’t you?’
Yes. Sort of.
‘And, you know it’s not easy with my ex-wife. Trying to co-parent the twins. She’s not always accommodating. Regardless of how she behaves, and how I’m feeling, I can’t let it affect the kids. They’re my top priority. They have their mum and she’s a good mum. I don’t want to confuse them. Do you understand?’
‘Yes of course I do. You’re a good dad and that’s one of the things I like about you.’ I kissed him again and he was happy after that. #HotDad
11.30pm
Ace texted to say he’ll be in Valencia at the end of the month, and did I fancy going? Hell yeah. A few days of sun, sand and music is exactly what I need. Would The Hot One like to come along and make it sun, sand, sex and music? Is it too soon to think of going away together? If I’m being sensible, then I’d say yes. But what’s wrong with being reckless for a change? A few days of 24/7 together, away from his work and commitments, might be what we need to bring us closer. After all, he did ask me to go camping with him for our first date. I’m sure Ace won’t mind.
P.S. No Brunch Bunch today. I was spared the humiliation of Leila refusing to talk to me. I was hurt before, but I’m pissed off now. Ace couldn’t believe it when I texted him that Leila wasn’t talking to me. He called me straight away and let me vent. It was a bit awkward talking about cheating though. When is Ace going to tell me exactly what happened with Kelly?
‘I don’t know him well, but I’ve always thought Jude is slippery. Leila will come to her senses soon,’ he said.
I’m not sure about that.
Sunday, 11 August, 11.30pm
Been thinking about what The Hot One said. Why did he make a big thing of it and say, ‘Can we have a talk?’ as though it was something serious, when all he said was that he liked me, and his kids were a priority? I wouldn’t want a man who doesn’t put his kids first. I’ve told him that already.
Anyway, I think we’re OK. Sort of. It’s bliss when we’re together but in between the times we see each other, there’s no communication. I don’t know how to take that. Maybe he wants to take things slowly. I don’t want to keep contacting him if he doesn’t want it, but it upsets me that he seems to forget about me when I’m not in front of him.
I wish I could talk to Leila about all this. She’d help me think it through. I miss having her in my life. When is she going to realise Jude is a knob? Texted her to say we need to talk. She read it but hasn’t replied.
P.S. I told him about my dream in his office and asked if he wanted to recreate it. He said no way. He’s not as playful as I thought.
Thursday, 15 August, 6.30pm
Dinner with The Hot One tonight. I hope he’s not going to be stressed. Even if he is, I’ll soon help him relax.
Friday, 16 August, 11.30pm
He was late again last night, which wound me up, but I relaxed after a while, and we had a nice evening followed by great sex. I was so tempted to ask him about coming to Valencia but decided to wait and ask Ace first.
Saturday, 17 August, 2.30pm
Grace was looking much better today. I told her and Ace about Leila and asked if they’d heard from her. They hadn’t. Terry growled.
‘That must have hurt. You’ve been friends for so long. I bet she’s too embarrassed to contact us. She must know deep down that you’re not lying but she doesn’t want to face it,’ Grace said.
‘Why does she want to stay with him anyway if he’s been unfaithful?’ Ace asked.
Ironic.
‘She’s never been good at being on her own. She needs a man by her side. I suppose, as Jude is her fourth husband, she really wants it to work. And she doesn’t care if she’s a total bitch.’ Terry’s ears pricked up and he wagged his tail and barked.
‘There’s no excuse for her behaviour but I bet she’s upset about you,’ Grace said.
‘I bloody well hope she’s suffering,’ I said.
It was a relief to know they supported me, but eventually I changed the subject and told them about The Hot One being a bit unreliable. I asked Ace if it was OK to take him to Valencia. He twisted his mouth and glanced at Grace, then said it was fine. Grace gave me a quizzical look. Ace left soon after to meet a friend.
‘What?’ I asked as Grace continued staring.
‘Are you sure that’s a good idea? Taking someone you’ve just met on holiday with Ace?’
‘What’s wrong with that? Firstly, I may not have gone out with him many times. Yet. But I like him and it’s a natural progression to go away together. Secondly, I’m sure Ace will like him once he gets to know him. Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.’
‘But you’ve been complaining about how he never calls you. Doesn’t that tell you something?’
‘Exactly. It’ll give us a chance to spend time together and get closer.’
‘If you say so,’ she said, and shrugged. Terry barked.
It’ll be fine. We’ll come back from Valencia all loved up.
P.S. Is Leila going to cancel her Brunch Bunch membership for good?
11.30pm
Asked The Hot One about going to Valencia. He wasn’t sure at first but couldn’t resist my powers of persuasion. It’s going to be great.
Sunday, 18 August, 11.30pm
Forwarded the flight details to The Hot One, then texted him in case he hasn’t checked his emails.
Hi, emailed you the flight details. It’ll be so much fun!
Thanks. Yes seen your email.
Not much packing to do. Mostly bikinis and lingerie for me.
Sounds good.
Just thought. Should I have bought a separate ticket for Junior?!
Ha ha
Let me know where you want to meet, OK?
Monday, 19 August, 11.30pm
Went to see a client who wanted me to prepare her flat for sale as it wasn’t attracting buyers. As soon as I walked in, I knew she didn’t need an interior designer. She needed a cleaner. The sofa had suspicious yellow stains, there were splodges of food around the kitchen, and a layer of grime over everything. The smell of cat was accompanied by floating furballs. The worst place was the bedroom, where a beautiful pristine white Persian cat sat on a navy throw covered in hairs. The smell was so strong, I almost gagged. I employed my best interior designer diplomacy and suggested a freshen up.
She was pleased she didn’t have to redecorate and agreed to buy a white throw to mask the hairs. At least sphinx cats don’t moult. I asked Joy to give the place a spring clean.
Tuesday, 20 August, 7.00pm
Had a text from the Persian Cat Lady saying Joy is allergic to cats.
Joy texted to say, ‘I’m not cleaning that house. It’s too dirty.’
Sent Persian Cat Lady another company’s name.
11.30pm
No word from The Hot One since Sunday. You’d think he’d want to talk and plan our holiday. I had to text and ask if he was still OK with the travel plans for tomorrow. He apologised and said he’d been busy and will have a look at my email again. It drives me mad – and makes me miserable – that he doesn’t text me other than to arrange to meet. But it’s so nice when we’re together. And I miss Junior.
Wednesday, 21 August, 6.00pm
He finally texted this morning. Better late than never. I’m so excited. He’s coming round tonight, and tomorrow we’re flying off to Valencia. Weather forecast is scorchio, and we’re going to relax, have uber-scorchio sex, and enjoy quality time together. I can’t wait.
7.30pm
Damn, damn, damn. He’s doing an all-nighter at work, so he’s going to meet me at the airport tomorrow. It would have been nice to get up and get ready together and go away like a proper couple. I hope he’s not going to be too tired for our first night away.
Thursday, 22 August, 9.30am
Waiting in the departures lounge for my flight. I want to scream and howl. The Hot One texted this morning and said he needs to work on an urgent case and can’t come to Valencia. He couldn’t even talk as he had to go into a conference call. Surely he’s allowed to have SOME time off. Ace will be rehearsing most days and performing in the evening, so I’ll be on my own. Sun and sand sans sex for me then.
11.30pm
Fuck, fuck, fuck. All the excitement and energy has been drained from me in torrents of tears. I was about to go and meet Ace for a drink before his gig when there was a text from THO – I can’t bear to call him The Hot One anymore. The prick has dumped me. By text! How could he do that to me? Some bullshit about ‘I have to concentrate on my work, and then there are the twins,’ and how it wouldn’t work ‘trying to juggle everything’. BULL. SHIT. Millions of other people juggle work, kids and relationships. Why can’t he?
It’s callous and cowardly to finish a relationship by text. I must have got it all wrong. He wouldn’t be treating me like this if he had any feelings for me. I couldn’t face telling Ace, so I made an excuse. My eyes are too swollen for going out. I’ve downed everything in the mini bar to knock myself out, but I still can’t sleep. What a shitty holiday this turned out to be. I hate him but still wish he was lying next to me here. If only there was a switch for turning off feelings.
Friday, 23 August, 11.30pm
I told Ace I couldn’t see him because I had ‘tummy trouble’ so he wouldn’t ask any questions. I’m not ready to talk about it. Spent the day going back and forth from my terrace to the mini bar. I’m in no state to see anyone. The waiter who brought up my room service did a double take at my swollen eyes, crumbled mascara, and hair like a furball. I did a triple take at my reflection in the mirror later.
I phoned Grace and cried down the phone for about two hours. She was lovely and listened to me ranting and asking, Why? Why? She resisted saying she’d told me it wasn’t a good idea. Oh Sophia, why don’t you ever learn? I did exactly what Leila was worried about, and what I told myself I wouldn’t do. I jumped in with both feet, allowed my feelings to run away with me, thinking he felt the same way. I must have been blinded by love. Or more likely by lust. But is it wrong to allow your feelings to flourish? To not try to hold back and to feel free to enjoy them? Is everyone else so afraid of love, they hide their feelings? I can’t be the only one who feels like this.
I must have checked my phone a hundred times for a text from him. Maybe he was having a bad day and couldn’t cope and will change his mind, but nothing. I drafted several texts ranging from ‘how can you do this to me?’ to ‘you utter shit’, but I didn’t send them.
This is exactly what I didn’t want to happen. I was happy enough being single and living my best life. As soon as a man comes into the mix, I end up being miserable and heartbroken. I don’t need this. I should get some sphinx cats so when I die, they could eat me and put on some much-needed weight.
Ace has been texting and checking up on me, offering to bring food and drink, but I put him off. He is the sweetest man. Perfect boyfriend material. Except for the cheating, of course.
Texted Leila and told her what had happened, and she replied, ‘Sorry to hear that.’ Just sorry to hear that? How many times have I supported her through her relationship breakdowns, and when I need her, I get just a ‘sorry to hear that’. I threw an empty mini vodka bottle across the room and shouted, ‘Cow!’
Saturday, 24 August, 3.30pm
I couldn’t put Ace off anymore. I felt so guilty, and it didn’t help that, as the poster boy for the orchestra, his face was on a billboard across the road from my balcony. When I met him for lunch today, he gave me a funny look, then reached over and patted down the knot of hair at the top of my head. I was managing to pretend everything was fine until he asked about THO, at which point I turned into a blubbering mess. He paid the bill and ushered me towards the beach for a walk along the shore.
‘Why does it always go wrong for me?’ I asked between sobs.
People on their sunbeds were hauling themselves up to see who was howling.
‘You’ve met guys who weren’t right for you, that’s all,’ he said.
‘But what did I do wrong? I know he was having a rough time at work, but I thought we were good,’ I whined.
‘It’s probably nothing to do with you. It’s more likely something about him that’s not right, and from what you’ve told me, it sounded like he made you miserable most of the time anyway.’
‘Yes … that’s true. But have you ever met someone and thought she’s the one for me, and you just wanted to go for it?’
He didn’t reply, but after a while he said, ‘You deserve to be with someone who loves you unconditionally. Someone who puts you first and makes you happy, not someone who keeps you guessing about how he feels and doesn’t turn up to be there for you.’
He is so right. That is exactly the kind of person I need. He escorted me back to my hotel but not before suggesting I have a coffee in a nearby café. I looked through the window and declined. The chairs were too hideous for words. We need more men like Ace in the world, but with better taste in chairs.
10.30pm
Spent the evening on my terrace. Feeling exhausted from the drama of today and the self-inflicted misery. Didn’t make it to Ace’s concert again. I’m the CEO of Worst Friends on Earth United. I didn’t want to risk sitting in the front row and blubbing through the performance. I will get a grip and go tomorrow.
No text from THO to see if I’m OK. THE PRICK. I hate him but my hands and lips are yearning for his body.
Grace texted and said she’d met Leila for brunch today. She wanted to call and tell me about it, but I said I was too upset already.