The Great Ex-Scape

by Jo Watson

  “You don’t need to know that now,” Stormy replied. “The universe will provide a sign.”

  I scoffed. “A sign?” I looked over at her and raised an eyebrow. “I came to you because you’re the one person that always tells it like it is and speaks the truth and all you have to say is that I will get a sign.”

  She nodded. “I’m afraid this one is beyond me. You’re going to have to keep your ears and eyes open for it.”

  “God!” I was frustrated and put my tea down. “How will I know it’s a sign?” I asked.

  “You’ll just know,” she said almost mysteriously, as if she knew something I didn’t. She probably bloody did. She always seemed to know things that others didn’t know.

  “No.” I shook my head. “I’m so confused right now that I’m not sure I would get the sign if it slapped my face.”

  “I doubt that,” Stormy said, crossing her legs and pulling them up onto the chair. I was just about to argue further, when I heard a rustle in the bushes. I almost shot out of my seat when I saw what came next.

  A small, beaked mouth. Thick leathery skin, a wrinkled neck, a shell and . . .

  “Oh my God!” I pointed at the tortoise that had just emerged from the bushes.

  “It’s Elvis,” Stormy said casually. “Since I had a garden, I brought him back.”

  “I know!” I gasped. Everyone knew Elvis, he was Stormy’s pet tortoise. She used to take him with her everywhere she went.

  “But . . . but . . .” I stuttered as I looked down at him. And then, as if he too had gotten the bloody memo that was clearly circulating amongst his kind, he slowly raised his head and looked up at me. Our eyes locked and I swear he said something to me deep in my subconscious mind, but not that deep that I could hear it.

  My brain started screaming things at me. It started showing me pictures like I was scrolling through an Instagram feed; Alex and I in the sea together with the sun setting behind us, Alex and I holding hands diving through the air, tasting plums, standing in the mist, shouting at mountains, the way he smiled, the way he laughed, the dimple in his cheek, the way he made me feel, the way we’d made love, and worst of all, the look on his face just before he’d walked away. And it was all so, so, so clear to me and I wasn’t sure why it hadn’t been clearer to me until that very moment. And then it started showing me something else. A magazine had gotten me into this trouble, and a magazine would get me out of it.

  “Oh my God!” I jumped up and down. “It’s the sign.” I turned to Stormy, and her eyes widened. “I know exactly what to do! I know exactly what I want!” I was so overjoyed in that moment that tears started streaming down my cheeks. Stormy was suddenly on her feet too, jumping up and down as if she was also as excited.

  “Then go out and do it.” She swooshed her hand around. Her bangles clanked together as she did and I ran up and threw my arms around her.

  “Thank you.” I hugged her and she hugged me back.

  I turned and started running towards the door, but her voice stopped me midway.

  “By the way,” she yelled after me, “Marcus and I are pregnant!”

  I stopped dead in my tracks and turned around. Her statement had caught me so off guard that I wasn’t sure what to say to her. Trust Stormy to drop a bombshell like that in the most inappropriate way ever.

  “Ah . . . ah . . . uh . . .” I stuttered. My brain was trying to change gear from what I now knew I needed to do, to this major announcement.

  “Congratulations!” I said almost awkwardly. And then it hit me. “Shit. Have you told Lilly yet?”

  She shook her head and looked at me solemnly. “No. I don’t know how to.”

  “Shit,” I whispered. Lilly and Damien had been trying for a baby for years now and nothing they did seemed to be working. They had even gone through months of fertility treatment and still nothing.

  Stormy looked suddenly tense. She never looked tense. I walked back towards her.

  “Have you spoken to Annie and Jane?” I asked.

  “Not yet,” she said. “It doesn’t help that Annie is popping them out at a rate of one per year though.”

  A small chuckle escaped my lips. It was true. Annie had just had her third child with her husband after swearing blind she would never do it again. She swore blind after the first one, and then again after the second one.

  “And Jane and Dimitri just got engaged, they’ll probably start trying soon,” she added, shrugging her shoulders.

  Lilly had always been the one out of all of us that had wanted to be a mom the most. In fact, it wasn’t that long ago that Stormy had also sworn blind she would never have kids.

  “But go! Go!” Stormy insisted. “Go do what you need to do, we can talk about this later.”

  I nodded at her. “Lilly will be happy for you,” I said.

  “I know,” Stormy replied sadly. “But she’ll also be sad.”

  I nodded at Stormy, because I knew she was right. Lilly would put on a brave face, she would host the baby shower and be there at the birth if she could. She would love that baby to bits and be the first to offer her babysitting services, but under all that, there would be a part of her that was devastated.

  “We need to talk about this later,” I said to Stormy, I didn’t want her to think I was rushing out of this big moment.

  She nodded at me and gave me a big smile and a thumbs-up.

  “You’re going to be such a great mom,” I said to her.

  “I know!” she said with a smile. “My star sign told me so.”

  I ran out the house and climbed into my car. I knew exactly what needed to be done.

  But it wasn’t going to be easy . . .

  CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

  “Matt!” I burst into his apartment the second he opened his door and walked all the way to the other end of the room as if it was a stage and I was ready to give a monologue. Which in a way, I was. I’d been practicing it over and over in my head the entire drive.

  “What’s wrong?” Matt asked, moving towards me.

  I held my hand up. “No. Stay there. I need to tell you something.”

  “What? You’re worrying me.” He looked genuinely concerned.

  “The thing is . . .” I started, ready to spew out all the words that I’d been rehearsing in my head. “The thing is, this isn’t what I want.”

  “What isn’t?”

  “This. Us. You and I.” I started pacing the room now. “Oh God, and I can’t believe I’m saying this, because it’s all I’ve wanted for so long, and now that I have it, it couldn’t be more wrong for me if I tried.”

  “Sorry, uh . . . what are you saying?” Matt folded his arms tightly.

  “It’s not you, Matt. It’s me. I’ve changed. Someone changed me for the better and now I no longer want what I thought I did. I want something else.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Alex,” I said. “I want him.”

  “Uh . . .” Matt unfolded his arms and the look on his face was pure and utter shock. “But I thought . . . I mean, you said at the engagement party and . . . you said it!” His voice had an edge of panic to it.

  “And at the time, I thought I meant it.”

  “You thought?” He sounded angry now.

  I nodded. “How did you not notice me for three years, Matt?”

  “I made a mistake,” he said defensively.

  “No. I don’t think you did. I think you didn’t notice me for three years because you and I are not meant to be together. We’re not right for each other, Matt. And it’s taken me looking at a tortoise to figure that out.”

  “What the hell has a tortoise got to do with this?”

  “Everything!” I said.

  “Uh . . .” Matt took a step closer to me. “You sure you’re okay? You don’t sound like you’re thinking straight.”

  I shook my head. “On the contrary, Matt. I have never thought so straight in my entire life.”

  “But I broke up with Sam for you.” Now he sounded
like he was pleading with me.

  “And you shouldn’t have,” I said.

  “But I did!” He said it a little louder this time. As if he was angry with me. “And she will never take me back now!”

  “And she shouldn’t,” I said to him. “And you shouldn’t either. Because if you broke up with her because you thought you had feelings for me, then she wasn’t right for you in the first place either.”

  “What?” He unfolded his arms and grabbed his head in his hands. “I called off my wedding for you, Val.”

  “I know. And I’m sorry.” I rushed over to Matt now and tried to lay a hand on his shoulder. He pulled away from me.

  “Shit. You are not doing this, Val! You can’t be doing this.”

  “I am doing this, Matt,” I said. “I am finally saying no to you. I haven’t been able to say no to you for years, even when I wanted to. And I’m saying it now. No.”

  He shook his head and I continued.

  “Matt, you and I, we’re not right for each other. Don’t you see that?” I asked. I walked over to him and this time he let me lay my hands on his shoulders. I looked at him.

  “You are going to make someone really, really happy one day. That someone is just not me.”

  “But I called off my wedding for you,” he said again, as if this was the most important part of all this. The crux of the matter.

  I sighed. “I put my entire life on hold for you for three years, and I’m sorry, but I am not going to waste another second of it.” I turned and walked out of his apartment for the last time.

  I sat back in my chair, my finger hovered over the “Publish” button. For the first time in my life, I’d written something worthwhile—just like Alex said I would. I’d written something that would hopefully change people’s lives; mainly mine and Alex’s. I knew that he’d subscribed to the mag, so the second I published this, he would get a notification. I closed my eyes, took a deep breath in and then lowered my finger to the button.

  DEAR DIARY: A WEEKLY COLUMN BY VAL IVANOV

  Dear Diary,

  I’ve made a terrible mistake. Huge mistake. You see, a couple of weeks ago, I made the wrong choice. And no, it wasn’t choosing what to watch on Netflix, this was much bigger than that.

  Because I chose the wrong man. And not just any man. The man. The kindest, funniest, smartest, sexiest man I’ve ever met in my entire life. And this man stood right in front of me and he told me that he was falling for me and I did the unthinkable, I let him slip through my fingers. I let him walk away.

  I should have run after him. I should have chased him down the beach and to the ends of the Earth, if need be, shouting at the top of my lungs that I had fallen too. That I loved him. But I didn’t. And now I’ve lost the most magical person that I’ve ever known.

  And what is so magical about this person, I hear you ask?

  Everything.

  He came into my life when I needed him most and least expected it. He came into my life when I didn’t even know that he was exactly what I wanted and needed. He took me on an adventure like I’ve never been on before and on it I found myself . . . and him. And now that he’s gone, I can only look at my life in one way; before him, and after him.

  Because he’s changed me. Changed every single part of me. And now that I’m changed, I can never go back to the way I was before him. He has awakened a part of me that I never even knew existed. He reached right into my heart and soul and left his mark there and I can never, ever erase it. I thought I loved a man once before him, but I realized that in loving that man, all I was doing was giving parts of myself away. And it was exhausting. But it’s not like that with him; being with him, and loving him, only adds to my life and I want him back more than anything I’ve ever wanted in my life before. Because loving him comes so easily.

  I’ll let you in on a secret, I’m not really writing this for you to read. I’m writing this for him. I’m hoping that he will read this and realize how truly, deeply sorry I am for not choosing him.

  Because he is everything.

  So please . . . come back to me. Because I feel lost without you.

  I love you.

  More laters . . . hopefully.

  CHAPTER SIXTY

  Dear Diary,

  Hi, diary. Real diary. Private diary. It’s been a week since I published the column and I haven’t heard a thing from Alex. Of course the column seems to have catapulted my career, it became the most read and shared thing last week. Everyone has read it and is talking about it, except for the one person that I need to read it.

  I even tried to call Alex, and it looks like he no longer has the same number. Julian said he’d also tried to call but it was the wrong number. Seems that Alex has gone to great lengths to keep me away. So at this stage I have two options:

  1. I give up. I forget Alex and move on with my life and try to find someone who will one day live up to him (never going to happen), or

  2. I can go and find him.

  Can you guess which one I’ve done . . .? I’ll give you a clue, let’s just say that I’m writing this from International Departures. In fact, I have to go. Right now.

  Wish me luck. More to come . . .

  I didn’t sit still the entire flight to London. How could I? An entire ten hours of tapping my foot, pacing the aisle, twirling my hair around my finger and repetitive toilet visits, even though I didn’t need them—I’m sure I burnt more calories on that flight than an hour at the gym.

  I had a pent-up ball of energy in my stomach that was twisting my insides into knots that felt like they were going to explode. I felt like that terrible Monty Python sketch, where the man in the restaurant eats too much and explodes. Except mine would be an explosion of emotions that would fill the entire plane, coat its walls and windows and cover everyone in its sticky, messy goo.

  And by the time I landed, I was an absolute wreck. The airport bustled with a manic energy, which only served to set my nerves on edge even more. But after what felt like another few hours of pure torture, I finally found a taxi. I leapt in and handed the driver the address. I hoped this was Alex’s apartment.

  We finally arrived at the building and I immediately raced up the steps to the front of it. I looked at the wall in panic—there was a massive panel of buzzers for all the various apartments and I had no idea which one was Alex’s. I was just about to start pressing them randomly when I saw someone come out the elevator and walk towards the door. I ducked behind a massive pot plant and when they exited, I grabbed the door and slipped in. It was all very cloak and dagger-y of me.

  I walked around in the large reception, my feet clicking loudly against the fancy marble floor, wondering how the hell I was going to find him, when a row of postboxes on the wall caught my eye. I walked up to them and started scanning the names, and there he was. Just like that. Apartment 66. I raced towards the lift, the anticipation building inside me like a coil. Tighter, tighter, tighter . . . I was sure there was a limit to how tightly this thing could be wound, and I was sure I was about to discover where that limit was as the lift seemed to climb the floors like a sloth.

  Could it not go faster? Was that too much to ask? I stared, tapping my foot impatiently as the lights for the floors seemed to illuminate in slow motion.

  “Oh, come the F on!” I cursed the buttons loudly when the lift seemed to slow down even more. How was it possible for something in the universe to be so perversely slow?

  Finally, after what felt like an eternity in hell, it arrived on the right floor. I threw myself out the door and started running down the corridor, reading the apartment numbers as I went.

  62, getting closer, 63, nearly there, 64, almost there 65 . . .

  There! I was here. And I didn’t waste a second. I banged on the door like a mad person. I heard a footstep inside, I saw the door handle begin to turn and my heart climbed into my mouth. This was it. This was the moment that I had been waiting for. I was about to see Alex and I couldn’t waai—

  “
You!” My jaw fell open when I saw who was standing on the other side of the door.

  “Uh . . . who are you?” she asked. She had that air of snarky superiority, the kind that made you instantly dislike her.

  “Connie?” I asked her, even though I knew the answer to that already.

  “Yes, that’s me,” she said sarcastically.

  “What are you doing here?” I asked.

  “Uh . . . I live here,” she said snappily.

  My heart climbed out of my mouth and committed suicide by tossing itself on the cold, hard floor. “You . . . you . . . uh . . . you do . . .” I stammered, walking backwards. My feet were just carrying me there on autopilot. As if I had no control over them whatsoever. No wonder he didn’t respond to my article.

  “What do you want?” she asked, raising a perfect brow at me.

  “I want . . .” I stopped walking backwards now and paused. I wanted what I couldn’t have. I wanted what I’d lost. And it was all my fault. That’s what I wanted to say to her, but I didn’t.

  “Never mind.” I turned around and started walking towards the lift, feeling like I was dragging my now very broken heart with me. I could almost hear it whimpering as it slid across the cold floor, trailing behind me.

  I heard a long, loud sigh from behind me. “Are you looking for Alex?”

  I turned back to her and nodded. Tears in my eyes now . . . no, tears streaming down my cheeks. God, I didn’t want to cry in front of her, but I was.

  She leaned against the doorframe in a defeated kind of manner. “He doesn’t live here anymore,” she said, almost sadly.

  I shook my confused head and then my eyes drifted down to her finger where the massive celebrity engagement ring had once been. But her finger was bare. “He moved out,” she said flatly.

  “Where?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “So you and him are . . .?” I couldn’t bring myself to say it out loud.