We should just keep chatting online. It was safer. We’d been getting along just fine. Messaging for hours. It’s been nice. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.
Yes. It would be less risky if we carried on exactly as we had been. I’d message him now and ask to reschedule. Although eight hours’ notice was more than most people would give, I still felt guilty. I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t speak to me again. But like I said, it was for the best.
* * *
Me
Hi, Kane. Really sorry, but I can’t make it tonight. I’m not feeling well, so I need to stay in until I get better. I’ll message again once I’ve recovered. Emily x
* * *
It wasn’t like I wasn’t telling the truth. I didn’t feel well. At all. I felt like my heart had been trampled on by a thousand angry bulls.
I felt hollow. Empty. And also lost. Now that I’d cancelled my date with Kane, I would be the last person he’d want to message tonight, so who was I going to talk to?
Ordinarily I could cheer myself up by watching Instagram stories or joining in on a Facebook conversation, but logging on today would just be asking for trouble. Eric’s engagement was sure to be all anyone would be talking about. And it wasn’t as simple as just unfollowing him. There were a load of other people we both knew who I also liked to follow, so there was always the possibility they could post about it too.
For all I knew, the happy couple could be back in the UK, throwing a big engagement party, and my timeline would be filled with photos and messages congratulating the bride and groom to be. Ugh.
No. Looked like tonight it would just be me, myself and I. Home alone.
One day I’d be ready to get myself out there again. Meet new people. Make new friends. Friends of my own. Start dating. Maybe eventually find a new boyfriend. Learn to trust again.
Yes.
One day.
Soon.
I will.
At some point.
In the future.
Just not now.
Just not today.
Chapter Three
‘So?’ said Chloe, her eyes widening as she stepped through my front door. ‘How did it go?’
‘How did what go?’ I frowned, taking the container of cake she’d placed in my hands and walking into the open-plan kitchen and living room.
‘Your date. With that online guy. What was his name again? Kyle? Kit?’
‘Kane…’ I replied reluctantly.
‘That’s the one!’ she said, slapping her forehead. ‘I knew it was a K something or other. So? Must have at least helped take your mind off your flapdoodle of an ex for a couple of hours. It couldn’t have come at a better time.’
Oh dear.
I’d completely forgotten that I’d told Chloe about my date with Kane. It was just that when she’d called on Monday night, she seemed really worried and was convinced that I was just moping at home, stalking Eric’s Instagram page (which of course was exactly what I was doing, but I didn’t exactly want to confess to that), so I needed to tell her something to reassure her I was okay. Except now she was excited about me finally moving on and I was going to have to break the news that I’d bailed. Again.
‘Shall I make us some tea to go with this cake?’ I said, hoping to change the subject. If only… I switched the kettle on, then placed the container on the plain white kitchen counter. ‘Gosh Chloe, you really do spoil me. This looks lovely. What is it? A banana loaf? Lemon cake?’ I opened the container and closed my eyes as I inhaled the sweet aroma. ‘Mmm…actually, I think I’m smelling coconut? And maybe pineapple?’
‘You didn’t go, did you?’ said Chloe, crossing her arms as she stood at the dining table..
Busted.
There was no point trying to deny it. Chloe had known me for so long she could read me like a book.
‘No…I had to cancel. I just didn’t feel up to it, and after I messaged, he didn’t reply, so he probably wasn’t right for me anyway.’ I hung my head. ‘But,’ I added enthusiastically, trying to rescue myself, ‘I matched with two new guys this morning! Seventy-four per cent compatibility for one of them and I think eighty-seven per cent for the other, which is a record for me, so it’s looking positive!’
‘For the love of Pete!’ said Chloe, spouting another of her old-fashioned sayings. ‘If you tell me one more time that your love life is looking positive or that you’ve got a good feeling about another one of these online strangers, I think I’m going to positively pour a bucket of ice-cold water over you to help you wake up and face reality!’
‘Charming!’ I snapped. Talk about trying to bring a girl down. She was supposed to be cheering me up and making me feel better, not worse.
‘Although it’s nice that you’re so optimistic, at some point, Em, you need to realise that this online dating thing is not working for you. It’s nonsense! For starters, you are not going to find the love of your life by staring at some guy’s abs on your phone. That’s not how love works.’
Chloe didn’t have a clue about modern dating.
‘For the millionth time, it’s not just based on looks or just cold-swiping right,’ I huffed. ‘The dating apps I use have a special algorithm, which processes how you respond to questions to generate a score that measures how compatible you are with different guys.’
‘Utter flimflam!’ She rolled her eyes and sat down. ‘Sounds like they’ve employed you as one of their sales reps! You don’t realise it, but you’re just on a hamster wheel, going round and round in circles. You match with these guys, you rave about your compatibility, you tell me things are looking positive and then nothing happens.’
‘Not true!’ I protested. ‘We talk.’
‘You mean, you chat to guys—online. Not even on the phone or in person. Via stupid phone messages. Then what?’
‘Well—we…’ I stuttered.
‘Seeing as you’re having trouble remembering, let me refresh your memory. These men that you’re supposed to be so compatible with never amount to anything. The conversation with them either fizzles out, or on the rare occasions you have had someone like Kane who actually wants to meet, you end up cancelling. You give up, before you’ve even tried.’
‘I just find the whole meeting in person thing hard.’ I winced. I poured hot water into our mugs, grabbed two plates from the cupboard, took the milk out of the fridge, then put everything on the table. ‘I get nervous.’
‘I understand, but how do you expect things to get any better if you don’t face your fears?’
I sat down opposite Chloe. She was right, I knew she was, but I was scared. Worried about meeting a guy and saying the wrong thing. About disappointing them. About getting hurt. About a thousand different things. Maybe it was still too soon.
‘I just need more time, that’s all,’ I said.
‘I love you, Em, but how much longer are you going to keep making excuses? You are an intelligent, beautiful woman with a lot to offer any man lucky enough to meet you. But I’m telling you: you’re not going to find him on your blinking phone!’
‘How do you know?’ I scoffed, picturing all the success stories and posts I’d seen on social media. ‘Myriam, one of my Facebook friends, got engaged last month to a guy she met on Tinder—it can happen. I just need to go at my own pace and maybe persevere a bit more.’
‘As I keep saying, what you need to do, is ditch the apps and go offline.’
Oh, not this again…
‘And as I keep telling you, that’s a crazy idea.’
‘It really isn’t. I’m telling you. If you want to find a man, look for one in real life,’ she replied.
Honestly. I really don’t know why Chloe keeps harping on about this in real life stuff. Everyone knows that apps are the way to go these days. She really is stuck in the dark ages.
‘That might be how you met Brian nearly two decades ago, but times have moved on since then. This isn’t the nineties! People don’t chat each other up in the street or in bars anymore.
As I’ve said every time you bring this up, it’s all done online now.’
‘Poppycock!’ She slammed her hand on the table. ‘If you want to find a meaningful relationship, the old-fashioned ways are still the best. I guarantee it.’
‘Guarantee?’ I scoffed. ‘Now you’re talking nonsense.’
‘Okay, Ms Online,’ she said, calmly taking a sip of her tea, ‘if you’re so convinced meeting someone offline won’t work, why don’t you try it and prove me wrong? You’ve been doing things your way with these dating apps for five months and you’ve got nowhere. So I say it’s time to do something different.’ She placed a slice of cake on her plate. Yes. It definitely was her delicious pineapple and coconut loaf. My mouth began to water. ‘Emily Robinson, I challenge you to look for dates offline for two months and I guarantee it will change your life,’ she said, taking a big bite.
‘Now I know you’re nuts!’ I said, reaching for my own slice and getting stuck in. ‘That will never work!’
‘What you mean is, you’re too afraid to try. Too weak to accept the challenge. The Emily I met at uni had balls. She was fun and ambitious. She pushed herself. But that Emily has apparently been replaced by some scared little hermit who sits here moping over some idiot when she could be out there having the time of her life. Well, you might be happy to wallow and waste away your years, but I’m not going to watch you do it. So what’s it to be?’
‘Seriously?’ I said, wiping the crumbs from the corners of my mouth. ‘Are you blackmailing me? Threatening to withdraw our seventeen-year friendship if I don’t agree to your stupid challenge?’
‘No. I’m helping you,’ said Chloe. ‘It’s called tough love. If I don’t push you, you’ll just sink further and further until eventually, you can’t even get out of bed. Then you’ll lose all your clients, you won’t be able to pay your bills, the bank will threaten to repossess your flat and then you’ll really have something to worry about.’
‘Jeez. Talk about dramatic! I’m not that bad.’
‘Not yet. But that’s where you’re heading. You’re not in a good place. This isn’t just about finding a man. It’s about finding your sanity. Getting out of this godforsaken flat. Making new friends. Having fun. Starting again. I’m helping you to rescue yourself and get a life. You should be thanking me.’
I paused.
I admit. Things weren’t great. And I did often find myself going stir-crazy surrounded by these four walls in my two-bed flat every day.
Working alone from home had always seemed like the dream when I was commuting and slaving away at the design agency uptown. I used to fantasise about being my own boss.
I loved the idea of not having to be in a noisy environment, deal with office politics or make small talk.
I longed for the day that I could simply roll out of bed and walk a few steps to my desk when I wanted, rather than having to wake up at the crack of dawn, get dressed, trek to the station, wait on the crowded platform for three packed tubes to pass and cram myself onto the fourth one, which would be so hot, I’d feel like I was standing in a sauna fully clothed. I’d then find my head shoved into some stranger’s sweaty armpit as more commuters piled on at the next stop. By the time I’d arrive at the office, I already felt like I’d done half a day’s work.
Travelling in rush hour was exhausting. So whilst I didn’t miss the daily commute, I’d started to realise that when you work, sleep and eat within the same surroundings 24/7, you can start to feel a little claustrophobic.
‘Even if I were to consider this offline thing,’ I said, making sure I didn’t commit to anything, ‘I honestly wouldn’t know where to begin.’
‘Leave that to me,’ said Chloe. ‘I’ll find the activities for you. All I need is for you to commit to it for two months. What do you reckon?’
Yes, it sounded interesting and yes, maybe it would be good for me, but it also sounded scary. Chloe had been suggesting I try getting out and about more since I’d broken up with Eric, but she’d never put a definite time frame to it. All this talk of a two-month challenge sounded so formal. So serious. It was way too much to take in. Committing to even going out once to try and meet new people was a big deal, so I’d hate to think about what she’d try and cram into eight weeks. Just the thought of it made me feel ill.
‘Chloe.’ I softened my voice. ‘I really appreciate your concern and it seems like a good idea, but I’m okay for now. I just…it’s just not the right time at the moment. But thank you.’
‘The brush-off. Again. Well, it’s your life. Not that you can call sitting at home day after day, doing nothing except working and staring at your phone, a life. I can’t force you, but I can’t promise I’ll be able to stand back forever and just watch you go downhill either. I’ll let this slide for today, but I will bring it up again. In fact, very, very soon, so give it some serious thought. Please?’
‘I’ll do my best,’ I said half-heartedly.
‘Good. Well, I’d better run. Brian’s got the day off too and his parents are going to pick up the kids from school, so he’s taking me out for lunch and then we might head back home for some uninterrupted adult time.’ She winked.
‘Well, enjoy!’ I said, giving her a hug.
‘You could be enjoying some afternoon delight with a lovely man too if you accepted my challenge…’
‘Bye, Chloe.’ I rolled my eyes and followed her into the hallway.
After she left, I closed the door, then leant against it.
Afternoon delight?
With another man? I couldn’t even imagine it. Which was probably another reason I’d avoided meeting guys from these apps. I always enjoyed sex with Eric, so the thought of sleeping with someone other than him was terrifying. Surely he must feel weird about being with Nicole too? Even though it’d been months since we’d broken up, it was still possible that he might realise that he’d made a terrible mistake and ask to come back.
I know, I know. I shouldn’t even entertain the idea after what he’d done. I’d always sworn that I would never forgive a guy that cheated, but now I was in this situation, as much as I hated to admit it, maybe I could consider it… I mean, we were together for five years. That was half a decade. Surely that was something worth fighting for? Or trying to, at least?
Don’t get me wrong. I wouldn’t just roll over. There’s no way I’d cave in immediately. He’d have to grovel. Apologise. Repeatedly. Sincerely. Swear he’d never do it again. I’d need to know he was really, really sorry. I’d also lay down some ground rules. I wouldn’t make it easy for him. No way.
Of course I knew it would be hard to forgive him completely. To get over the betrayal. The pain he’d put me through wouldn’t disappear overnight, and we’d probably need to go through counselling, but with time, it must be possible. After all, millions of other couples had survived infidelity, so why couldn’t we?
As crazy as it seemed, in some ways, taking him back might even make sense. I mean, I knew Eric inside out and he knew me. Better the devil you know. Right? Surely it would be better to try and patch things up with him rather than going out and meeting someone completely new.
Anyway, no point thinking too much about it right now. I’d cross the forgiveness bridge when Eric apologised. Until then, I would just monitor the situation. That was the advantage of still following him on Insta. I could see how well Eric and Nicole were getting on. And once the novelty wore off and he remembered what we’d had, he’d ask if we could try again. Until then, it would be better if I didn’t meet anyone else. I’d only end up letting them down when Eric came back, which wouldn’t be fair.
No. I know Chloe meant well, but things were fine how they were. The engagement thing was just a little setback. Temporary. Their relationship wouldn’t last.
Maybe I could wait.
Not forever. Just a little while longer. Just to see what happened.
It was only a matter of time. I was sure of it.
Soon Eric and I would get back together and my life wo
uld fall back into place again. Just how it was before.
Chapter Four
It was now Friday and I was feeling better. Stronger. Whilst I’d had a quick peek at Twitter and Facebook a few times earlier today, I’d managed to stay off Instagram all afternoon, so this evening I’d poured myself a drink, taken the last slice of Chloe’s cake and climbed under the covers ready for a well-deserved social media binge.
These past few months, I’d been a bit of a passive user. I hadn’t really been anywhere to take pictures so was mainly looking at other people’s content rather than posting myself, which meant I was losing followers.
Eric was a sales manager for an events company and was often invited to cool bars. Well, I thought they were pretentious, but everyone else thought they were cool, so whenever I posted those pics, I got lots of likes. I’d been able to get away with some Throwback Thursday posts using old photos from my nights out with him, but now I’d run out of images. Maybe putting up an inspirational quote or reposting might give my numbers a boost. I wasn’t in the mood for doing any of that tonight, though, so I’d just scroll through Insta instead. Hopefully I could think of something interesting to put up tomorrow.
Thankfully, things had calmed down on the whole Eric and Nicole front. There hadn’t been many new comments when I’d checked quickly this morning and he hadn’t posted anything new, so I was feeling quite calm about logging back on.
As I scrolled down the feed, there was a photo of a mouth-watering dinner posted by Rachel, a girl I used to work with at the agency, a snap of a blogger posing by the pool in a tiny bikini, which showed off her washboard stomach, basking in the glorious sunshine at what looked like the most amazing luxury five-star hotel, and a photo of a reality star I didn’t even remember following, that showed off her no make-up selfie taken earlier this morning. Blimey. If I posted a pic of what I looked like after I’d just woken up, it would be panda eyes, dribble around my mouth and puffy cheeks. And how could her hair possibly be so smooth after eight hours of tossing and turning in bed? Mine was always like a bird’s nest.
Love Offline Page 2