Measuring Up Love

Chapter 23

P eople say that twins share a special bond, and I believe most of them do. When I was little, my relationship with my sister was certainly strong, and we could understand each other without words. But as time passed, that bond between us seemed to have faded, and on some days, I felt like I was dealing with a stranger, often asking myself, ‘What does this person want from me?’

Today was one of those days, and all morning, I’d been waiting for Isabel to finally tell me why she’d demanded to have breakfast with me in a cafe two roads down from my apartment.

With her, it was never a request or a mutual agreement; it was an order. Like when she’d refused to take no for an answer when offering me a ride to Nottingham last Christmas, though I’d have been perfectly capable of driving myself. And if people didn’t do what she wanted, she’d throw a hissy fit. It was easier to give in than deal with the aftermath. Therefore, I’d let her pick the place and the time. She wasn’t an early riser, but for me, this was lunch. I’d already had a light breakfast – cereal and toast as usual.

‘How’s the bump doing?’ I asked, cutting up my club sandwich.

She was in the third trimester, though I never remembered exactly how far along she was. She, on the other hand, had been religiously keeping track of the weeks and days, but I couldn’t understand why such accuracy mattered. The baby would make an appearance sometime around the nine-month mark – even I accepted the exact timing of natural birth was one thing no one outside the womb could control .

‘I guess she’s okay,’ she said. ‘But this heat isn’t great for me; makes it very difficult to sleep. Thank God it’s only a few days to go now.’

I raised an eyebrow. ‘She?’

‘Yes, it’s a girl. Didn’t I tell you before? You know I don’t like surprises…’

Which of course wasn’t true. She loved surprises in all shapes and sizes, particularly if that size was a five with moderate heels and had an expensive price tag attached to it. This was unfortunately something we both had in common, but unlike her, I could limit my shopping addiction to one pair of shoes every couple of months.

‘So what’s going on with you?’ she asked.

‘And you know that I don’t like when people beat around the bush, so just get to the point please. I know you’re dying to ask about my love life.’

She smirked. ‘Funny you should say that. As I understand it, you’re the one who keeps beating around the bush with David.’

‘That’s different.’

‘I can’t see how. You’ve been talking non-stop about him for, like, two years now. Though actually not so much in the past few months. Is it because of that other guy you slept with? Is he cute too? You refused to give me any details over Christmas – remind me again why you’re not on WhatsApp or Facebook. It’s so frustrating that we can barely talk.’

‘You can still drop me a text or pick up the phone…’

Of course she ignored my comment and instead asked the passing waiter for another portion of eggs Benedict and more tonic water.

‘I’m so hungry all the time,’ she cried, fanning herself with the drinks menu.

‘I can see that…’ I said, wondering how much she’d struggle to lose the extra pounds this time. Perhaps she’d hire a personal trainer and a dietitian again. Although she had plenty of free time, she had no willpower and wouldn’t be able to lose the weight on her own .

‘How’s Edward doing?’ I added casually.

She shrugged. ‘Busy; drafting contracts for business deals.’

‘Anything exciting?’

‘Well, you know…’

No, I didn’t know, but I guessed she didn’t know the details either. She’d never really been interested in anyone but herself. Her interest towards others – including me – was never genuine but just to keep herself in the know and to pretend she cared.

‘So what is going on with that other guy?’ she asked, clearly just to change the subject.

‘Nothing; he’s a colleague. Same goes for David,’ I said, having no desire to tell her that the latter was taken anyway.

‘And? I used to work with Edward.’

‘But you don’t anymore,’ I pointed out.

‘But not because I’m not allowed to.’

She wasn’t saying anything I didn’t know. Technically, they’d never worked for the same employer. Isabel’s husband had been hired to provide legal services for her boss but was never directly employed. But there was no point in bringing this up. My sister would argue black was white or just change the subject again.

‘Have you talked to Mum and Dad recently?’

‘Not for a couple of weeks,’ I said. ‘Mum texted to wish me happy birthday but nothing from Dad.’

‘You make it sound like Dad doesn’t care about you. That must have been a joint message. Mum rang me. She told me she’d been trying to reach you too, but you never return her calls. You know you could also make the effort sometimes and give them a ring or visit them; you don’t always have to wait for them to chase you.’

‘You know I’m busy with work.’

‘Work, work, work,’ she said, annoyed. ‘All you talk about is work. When are you going to have a life too?’

‘I have a life. I love my life, and work is a major part of that.’ Not everyone aspired to have a rich husband and live in a mansion with servants. Of course I’d never say that to her face; she wouldn’t understand it anyway .

‘Uh-huh,’ she murmured.

I looked at my watch. ‘Shoot, I’m sorry, I’ve gotta go.’

‘What? You’re leaving me here alone? I haven’t seen you for months and you’re running off already?’ she asked in a frantic tone, with food still in her mouth.

‘Sorry, I’ve got another meeting,’ I said, wiping my face with a napkin.

I knew what really bothered her wasn’t that I was leaving early but that she’d be left without company. She just couldn’t bear the thought of being alone for a minute. That’s why she’d hired a maid as soon as she and Edward had moved into their first house, not because they’d needed someone to do the housework – though, of course, that was also a reason because she’d never lift even her little finger when it came to chores.

‘What meeting?’

I shrugged. ‘It’s work.’

‘On a Saturday ? I was thinking we could go shopping after breakfast…’

Of course – that’s why Isabel had been so adamant about meeting me near where I lived. It was nothing to do with saving me the journey to Guildford like she’d said. She just wanted to go shopping at the pricy boutiques in Richmond.

‘I’ve seriously gotta dash, but give my regards to Edward and kiss my niece for me, will you? Speak soon.’

‘Wait! Charlotte really misses you,’ she said. ‘You should come and visit her. Poor darling – soon she’ll barely remember her aunt… Maybe we should set up a date for you to come over,’ she added, putting on a sad face and blinking rapidly as if fighting back tears.

Isabel was trying hard to make me feel guilty – she was a pro at being overdramatic and using emotional blackmail. Again, it wasn’t about my one-year-old niece – whom I last saw at her birthday party three months ago – but about my sister missing out on socialising.

Since she’d been away from the office for over a year now, it was inevitable that sooner or later most of her work friends would stop staying in touch with her, and instead of sending Charlotte to nursery, where she might meet other mothers, she’d hired a nanny for her.

They lived in a gated house on a large plot, away from other neighbours – or, in other words, she’d unintentionally cut herself off from the outside world. She was trying to make this my problem; however, I wasn’t going to let her.

I put some money on the table, but Isabel waved away my gesture. ‘I’ll get this.’

‘No, it’s my turn,’ I said firmly, enjoying that for once I’d managed to deprive my sister of her biggest joy: spending money.

*

Adam looked at his wristwatch then gave me an annoyed look as I emerged from the Underground station.

‘You’re late.’

I checked the time too. ‘Only by two minutes.’

‘That doesn’t change the fact that you’re late.’

‘Where are we going?’ I asked.

‘You’ll see,’ he said with his arms crossed, measuring me up again. ‘I must say you look good in shorts.’

I looked down at the casual attire no one in the office had ever seen me wearing.

‘You told me to wear something comfortable,’ I replied defensively.

‘I wasn’t being sarcastic – you do look good in shorts.’

Becoming impatient, I told him, ‘Can we just get on with this please?’

‘Well, we have all afternoon…’ he said as we finally started walking down the road.

‘I didn’t agree to stay all afternoon.’

Adam stopped and spoke in a harsh tone. ‘Let me be clear: I can’t show you London in thirty-seven minutes and forty seconds. It’s not going to be another speed date. ’

I stopped too and turned back to face him. ‘Can we not just hop on a sightseeing bus?’ I asked hopefully, batting my eyelashes, a tactic that seemed to work for Katie.

But it appeared I wasn’t as effective in executing it because Adam said, ‘We’re doing this my way or—’

‘Fine.’

‘You don’t even know what the end of my sentence was going to be.’

I sighed. ‘Do I want to?’ Then once we’d resumed walking, I reluctantly added, ‘Tell me then – what were you going to say?’

‘Forget it.’ His stern expression had now softened into a boyish smile. ‘I’m just surprised how easily you gave up. So are you hungry?’

‘I’ve just eaten.’

‘Okay… So what were you up to this morning?’

I shrugged. ‘Had another meeting.’

‘With whom?’ he asked, his voice echoing the same reproach as Isabel’s at the word ‘meeting’. His attempts at making small talk always sounded so awkward, as if he were interrogating me, but it bothered me less now. I guess I was getting used to his strange ways.

‘My sister.’

‘Lol, you made it sound like a business meeting again.’

‘With her it always is. She always wants something from me, and I give her just enough.’

‘You mean you left your sister for me? I’m honoured.’

‘Don’t get too cocky,’ I warned him. ‘Have you eaten?’

‘I thought we’d have lunch together, but I’ll just grab a sandwich on the go.’

‘So where first?’

‘I thought we’d start with the Natural History Museum, then do Hyde Park, Buckingham Palace, check out things like Big Ben…’

Now I understood why he’d messaged to meet me in the posh area of South Kensington, renowned for its museums, and not Trafalgar Square, which was supposed to be the real heart of the city and an iconic tourist hotspot.

The Natural History Museum was just a brief walk from the Underground station I’d arrived at. From the museum, we’d have to take the appropriately named Exhibition Road to get to Hyde Park if he was indeed set on exploring London’s largest green area.

If not, we could just take a shortcut to Buckingham Palace by leisurely strolling along Knightsbridge, a shopping paradise, aka the Oxford Street of the wealthy, admiring world-famous designer boutiques and department stores like Harrods.

The only reason Isabel preferred Richmond to Knightsbridge was that parking proved a nightmare in the centre, and now that she’d stopped working in the city, she avoided all forms of public transport.

I shot a side glance at Adam. He was wearing black flip-flops, khaki Bermuda shorts, and a white top with an Arsenal logo. He didn’t seem like the type who’d appreciate high fashion. No chance of a shortcut .

‘Wow, you’ve actually put some thought into this,’ I said.

‘You’re always trying to put me down, but I’m not as bad as you think. You should really give me some more credit.’

‘I guess it’s not hard to use Google Maps…’

‘And you’ve done it again,’ he told me, letting out a sarcastic laugh. ‘You know, you should give lectures on this.’

I gave him a confused look. ‘On what?’

‘How to belittle someone.’

‘Do I do that a lot?’

‘Not sure about your staff but to me all the time.’

‘Hmm, I don’t think I’m that bad to them.’ But truthfully I wasn’t sure anymore. This was the second time Adam had made me see a negative trait about myself no one had ever pointed out to me before. Perhaps I was a terrible boss. I must watch myself at work.

‘So the honour is all mine?’ he asked.

‘I guess you just keep rubbing me the wrong way. I’m sure you understand why… ’

He put on a playful smile. ‘What way do you want me to rub you?’

I narrowed my eyes and slowly shook my head while holding his gaze.

‘You have a dirty mind,’ he said.

‘ Me ? Let’s just do this museum and stop talking for a while.’

We executed Adam’s plan and did all the sights on his list, even ones that weren’t, like passing Westminster Abbey by looping around Parliament Square before reaching our final destination.

By the time we arrived at Big Ben, I felt hot and bothered and had run out of my second bottle of water.

‘Have you been to the National Gallery?’ he asked. ‘That’s just ten minutes from here.’

‘I’m not a big fan of art.’

‘Come on – you’ll like it,’ he said. ‘There must be an era you like.’

‘Computera.’

‘Ha ha. You see, you can be funny.’

‘Don’t tell anyone at work. I don’t want my reputation as the Wicked Witch of the West to be tainted in any way.’

He frowned. ‘And you’ve just made another joke – what’s wrong with you?’

‘I guess I’m just tired.’

‘I knew it must take up a lot of your energy to appear so frigid all the time.’

‘No, it’s all this walking,’ I said. ‘It’s been a long week, and I do enough exercise at the gym.’ The brunch with Isabel had probably drained me too.

‘Let’s do just one more museum,’ he begged then raised an eyebrow. ‘What? What are you looking at me like that for?’

‘I just didn’t take you for being a museum guy.’ Adam kept on surprising me.

‘What are you talking about? Museums are great. Full of old stuff that’s now worth a fortune. Wish I could steal a few artefacts and sell them. And the best thing about museums is that most of them are free… ’

‘ Here we go …’ I told him. ‘Is this what you’re doing? Taking me to places that are free? Frankly I was half expecting you to take me up on the London Eye or drag me to the Tower.’

‘Nah, I’m not one to queue for hours, and one of the best views of the city is from the Walkie-Talkie anyway.’

He was referring to a skyscraper that looked like a giant two-way radio. I may not have been big on art, but being familiar with the funny nicknames of some tall buildings like this one and the Gherkin, the Shard, etc., was expected of quantity surveyors – they were part of the university curricula.

‘I hope you’re not planning on taking me there too,’ I told him, massaging my side. ‘Seriously, I can’t feel my legs anymore, and it’s almost dinner time.’ I felt shattered and was sure my voice also sounded like it.

‘Okay, let’s leave it for another day.’

With my remaining energy, I gave him a hard stare. ‘Adam, I must remind you I haven’t signed up for a weekly sightseeing tour – this is a one-time-only thing.’

‘We’ll see about that… But did you say you were hungry? Why don’t we sit in somewhere to eat then? Pick as posh as you want.’

‘I’ve already spent five hours with you.’

‘Exactly my point,’ he said. ‘So why not stay another hour or two?’

‘Fine, but just because I am hungry. And I give it to you, you’re clever, Mr Cunning Fox – you’ve made sure I can’t pick anywhere posh. You made me wear casual clothes, and I must look like a scarecrow now after walking around half of London.’

It felt unfair that while I was desperate for a bath, he hadn’t even broken a sweat, and his cologne hadn’t faded. He still smelled great, as if he’d just stepped out of the shower. It reminded me of our morning in Manchester when he was teasing me and trying to seduce me with his bare chest and masculine scent.

‘Come on – we’ve only done five miles, and you still look fine. So where do you want to eat?’ he asked .

‘Let’s go to a pub. My treat. You paid for dinner last time.’

‘You’re the dream of every man’s wallet.’

‘Are you being sarcastic?’

‘Let’s just find a place and feed you; you’re becoming snappy again. I’ve noticed you get grumpy when you’re hungry.’

We settled on a small restaurant on Whitehall. Like most of the places we’d been today, it was squirming with tourists, but I had no energy left to look for something quieter.

We both ordered steak and chips. Adam seemed hungry too, though he’d had a large baguette from Pret a Manger after visiting the Natural History Museum. For once we ate in silence, which was refreshing. There was too much buzz around us anyway; hearing each other would have been difficult.

The food was okay, but the portions could have been bigger – all that walking had left me starved. We each had a coffee afterwards, then I signalled to the waitress that we were ready to pay.

‘Your card has been declined,’ she told me. Her bored and less-than-friendly tone reminded me that customer service didn’t need to excel in an area where, for every unhappy customer, there were two new ones to fill the seats.

‘That can’t be. Can you please try again?’ I demanded, but the waitress showed no willingness to execute my request; she just passed my card back to me. I thought perhaps my bank had blocked it again. I quickly glanced at my phone, but there was no message confirming that was the case.

‘It’s fine. Take this,’ Adam said, holding out his card to the waitress.

She took it with a seductive smile, slowly inserted it into her machine, then let him type in his PIN, not taking her eyes off him for a second. She then lingered for a minute after the transaction had been completed, as if waiting for Adam to ask for her number or perhaps for me to look away so she could slip hers to him.

I realised my dinner partner did indeed tick the box of being attractive to the general female public. Under normal circumstances, I’d have found the sudden change in her behaviour amusing but not when experiencing an issue with my card.

‘I don’t understand – I have money in my account, and it’s definitely not blocked,’ I told him after she’d left.

‘Can I take a look?’ he asked, taking my card and examining it carefully. ‘Just what I thought,’ he murmured.

His concerned expression had me worried. ‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ I asked.

‘Your card has expired.’

I snatched it from his hand. ‘You’re joking, right?’ But the dates on the card agreed with him. ‘Oh my God, you’re right. It expired on Monday.’ I hadn’t noticed it sooner as I’d been paying with cash everywhere all week, but this place was cashless.

‘Has your bank not sent you a new one?’

‘I don’t know; I haven’t checked my mail for weeks.’ It was normally just junk; and I’d have expected some warning on the app or in an email about such.

‘You mean you haven’t looked for my DVD yet?’

‘Shit, forgot, sorry.’

After leaving the restaurant, we strolled along the Thames towards the nearest Underground station, which was Embankment. The city was still buzzing but at a slower pace, and the riverside was much quieter than the nearby roads.

When we got to the station, Adam gave me some money to top up my Oyster Card, which wouldn’t let me through the automated gates anymore. I recalled there was an app or something to enable payment with mobile phones, but I wasn’t great with technology.

‘I’ll pay it back,’ I said.

‘No need.’

It was now seven o’clock, and I was too worn out to argue back but was already pressing the buttons on my phone to make the bank transfer.

I looked up. ‘What? You’re staring at me. What is it?’

He licked his lips before he spoke. ‘Aren’t you feeling a little thankful that we’ve done the tour? ’

‘Why?’ I asked, stretching the word out.

‘Because I want to kiss you.’

‘Adam!’ I cried, but he was looking at me almost pleadingly. I couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. ‘I don’t think it’s a good idea…’ I added, thinking I should have never agreed to meet up with him today.

‘I think it’s a great idea.’

‘You’re just making things hard on yourself.’

He stepped closer and said in a low voice so that only I could hear, ‘I’m already hard just looking at you.’

‘Please don’t say things like that,’ I begged, trying to move my eyes away from the growing bulge under his belt. I still remembered what was hidden beneath his clothes, and now it wasn’t just the air around us that felt hot and moist…

‘Come on, Evelyn; it’s like I’m the donkey and you’re the sweet carrot dangled in front of my nose. So close yet out of reach… Why don’t you come back to my place?’

I finally raised my head and said, ‘Remember what happened last time? You couldn’t take it that I wasn’t madly in love with you afterwards.’

‘Maybe one day…’ he replied with a weak smile. Normally he sounded like a mischievous little boy when he said things like that, someone not to be taken seriously. But now the intense look in his eyes was of a man, and it was impossible to ignore the lust in it. His tone and his gaze just didn’t seem to match.

‘ Adam !’

‘I promise I won’t get upset this time, even if you decide to leave in the middle of the night. I wish you wouldn’t of course. So, please, let’s go to mine.’

I nodded slowly. My body had decided for me, not my brain.

‘Is that a yes?’ he asked.

‘Do I have to spell it out too?’

His face lit up at my answer, and we passed through the gates together.

*

The journey on the Underground and the bus ride that followed seemed like the longest half hour of my life. We were both quiet until we got to his flat, barely looking at each other, as if we were two shy teenagers who just happened to be travelling together. Though whenever we caught each other’s eyes, I felt some teenage-like excitement about where we were heading. As if we were about to do something naughty – which, of course, we were.

We still weren’t talking when we finally got to his place – words weren’t needed. Shoes got kicked off, shorts slipped off, and tops flew onto the floor, all within a few seconds of us stepping through the front door. We didn’t even make it to the bedroom. He lifted me and pushed me hard against the wall, my legs locked tight around his waist.

Somehow, we ended up on the living-room sofa with me kneeling over his lap, my soles brushing against the top of my under-thighs. My bra got lost somewhere between the hallway and the living room, but I still wore my black lace knickers. We didn’t waste time removing them; instead I led him around the delicate fabric.

Once our bodies united, the expression on his face changed. It was still intense but wasn’t as desperate as before, as if he’d found the inner peace he’d been looking for.

I enjoyed watching him; I enjoyed the power I had over him. There was something with my previous partners that hadn’t allowed me to have complete control. Even if they’d let me, playtime wasn’t fun without them trying to fight back – it was all too easy.

Adam at least tried to fight back, which made gaining control over him all the more exciting.

I put my hands on his firm chest, and just like last time, I was the first one to dictate the rhythm of our rocking bodies. However, just like last time, he started making opposing moves, as if trying to avoid the inevitable and let his body give in.

His hands were again all over me, first caressing my breasts, then cupping them gently, then gripping them firmly. Then one hand wandered onto my waist while the other sneaked up to my face to stroke my chin softly.

His thumb brushed against my lips, and I licked it as he moved it slowly down from the tip of my nose, then took it between my lips, gently sucking on it while my fingers played with his nipples.

His eyes revealed he was imagining a different scenario: an entirely different part of his body being spoiled in my mouth. I held his gaze and smiled. Then I let go of his thumb but ran my tongue along it slowly, again from the bottom to the top, just to torture him more with those mental images.

He leaned forward and kissed me, pushing his warm tongue into my mouth and grabbing my face with both of his hands before his palms finally came to rest on my bottom, trying to pull me closer again. However, I didn’t let him take charge. Pushing away from his chest, I broke off the kiss.

We moved in unison, surging, swaying, and heaving like a ship in the stormy sea, but I was the captain controlling the motions of the heavy waves. He kept trying to grab my nipples with his lips, but I arched my back, away from him, until he gave up fighting and finally threw his head back, unable to hold on any longer.

I too started to feel the tension building in my body, ready to explode. But for me, my drive for sex wasn’t just about releasing that inner pressure – it went well beyond such primitive need.

When the moment arrived, Adam didn’t even make a deep moan like last time; he just let out a long exhale through his teeth, with his eyes closed. Then he opened them and looked at me through the fog of pleasure. He seemed vulnerable, like a young boy, his expression the stark opposite of the muscular body he possessed. I stroked his face.

This time, it was me leaning forward for a kiss. I just gently played with his upper lip for a second, sucking on it slowly, then repeated the process with his lower lip.

His hands had moved up to my waist and held on to me, trying to bring my motions to a stop. Then I took my hands off him, sat back on his lap, and looked at him, waiting, ready to end the game, but I thought I’d give him another minute to compose himself.

‘Sorry I didn’t last long,’ he said with childish embarrassment in his eyes. ‘This isn’t how I usually am… I promise I’ll make it up to you, but I’ve been thinking about you all day… You don’t realise how difficult it is to pretend I don’t want you.’

‘You’re not that good an actor.’

He didn’t seem to hear me and went on, ‘I can’t control myself because your scent always turns me on.’

‘Which one?’ I asked with genuine interest.

I used three different perfumes. I had one for everyday work, a more upmarket one for a non-work day like today, and one for special events like the Christmas party and important meetings both at work and outside work.

‘I’m talking about you,’ he said. ‘The scent of your skin. You smell like vanilla. Evelyn, sleep with me – please.’

‘I just did.’

‘No, I mean stay the night.’

‘I always give an inch and you want a mile,’ I said, rising from his lap. It was frustrating that he still didn’t understand this was only about sex.

‘What are you scared of?’ he asked, raising his voice. ‘That if you spend more time with me, you won’t be able to leave?’

‘I knew I shouldn’t have come here.’

I wanted to get away as quickly as possible, but after gathering my clothes, I left for the bathroom to refresh myself a little before putting them back on. It bothered me that in the mad rush, we’d forgotten about additional protection. Though he’d been so starved for sex that I doubted he’d been sleeping around.

*

Adam was waiting for me in the hallway as I turned off the bathroom lights. He’d put his shorts back on.

‘You’re off already?’ he asked .

‘You said you’d let me go if I wanted to leave – you lied.’

Adam crossed his arms. ‘I never lied to you. You’re free to go. I’m not stopping you. I just don’t understand why you’re doing this. It’s like you’re afraid to be happy.’

‘I’ve no idea what you’re talking about,’ I said, looking for my bag.

‘Evelyn, tell me, please: when was the last time you were in a relationship?’

‘I don’t want a relationship. We’re colleagues, and we’ve had some fun. Let’s not overcomplicate this. Have you seen my bag?’

There was confusion in his eyes. ‘So what am I? Your fuck buddy?’ he asked, then picked up a black bundle from the shoe rack and passed it to me – my bag.

‘Hardly; we’ve only had sex twice,’ I replied, trying to sound calm. ‘Besides, do you have to be so vulgar? Some call it friends with benefits.’ That was my preferred term – the one I’d used with my previous partners.

‘What if I want more? What if I want to see you more?’

‘You see me at work all the time,’ I said, trying to brush it off.

He nervously ran his fingers through his hair. ‘Can you please stop talking about work? I want to be with you outside work. I want to take you out on a proper date where you don’t make me feel like I’m holding a gun to your head to be with me.’ He sighed then added, ‘Or is this impossible? Am I always just going to be a threat to your career? Is that how you see me and is that why you agreed to come back here with me today? Do you still think I’d sell you out about Cardiff, so now you’re using sex as your weapon?’

Our Welsh adventure was so long ago that I’d almost forgotten about it, but it seemed like I could never truly escape it. It would always come back to haunt me, and today felt never-ending.

Although Adam wasn’t as hysterical as Isabel had been earlier today, his reactions still reminded me of her… What was wr ong with these people? What were all these outbursts for? They were all driven by their own selfishness and blinded by emotions they thought to be real. If someone didn’t conform to their standards, the whole world was falling apart.

‘I’m confused. Are you complaining about me giving you sex?’

‘Is it just trust issues with you, or have you got commitment issues too?’ he went on. ‘Seriously, what’s wrong with you? I’ve never known a woman who was this afraid of falling in love?’

‘What’s wrong with you ? We barely know each other, and you’re already talking about love. Why can’t you just understand that I’ve no need for love. And you know what? I’ve no need for a fuck buddy either. I’m happy on my own. I don’t need men telling me what to do. Let’s forget about this whole thing and go back to being colleagues only. I’ll see you at work next week,’ I told him, and with that, I rushed out of the flat.