My eyes were stinging. I just wanted to get home, put on a Sad Songs Spotify playlist and curl up into a ball. Shut the world out around me. I couldn’t call Chloe. She’d tell me to woman up and forget about him. I didn’t want to disturb Kat. She’d be busy with her kids. Henry? No. He didn’t seem like the emotions type. Plus I was seeing him tomorrow. Didn’t want to appear too keen.
‘Emily?’
Oh God. The last thing I needed was to see someone I knew right now when I had snot, tears and mascara running down my face. It was only a few more steps to my front door. Maybe if I walked quickly and ignored them, I’d get away with it.
‘Emily?’ said the voice again. ‘Are you okay?’
I guessed not. I turned around slowly.
Oh bloody hell. Let me rephrase those thoughts: the last person I wanted to see when I had snot, tears and mascara running down my face was the hot guy from the coffee shop. Could this evening become any more mortifying? Jeez.
Tissue. I needed a tissue. I rummaged around in my bag. Why didn’t I carry a clean tissue? Oh, that’s right, I did. But I’d used it to wipe my mouth after seeing Eric and her and throwing up.
Realistically, though, there was nothing I could do. This was the disaster that was my face right now. I couldn’t try to hide it. Unless I suddenly developed the ability to stop time whilst a glam squad miraculously stepped in and fixed my make-up, not even a truckload of Kleenex could save me.
‘Hi,’ I replied, bowing my head in an attempt to avoid eye contact. This was awkward. Not only did I look a mess, but I also didn’t know his name. In fact, how did he even know mine? ‘I—I’m fine.’
‘No offence,’ he said, locking the coffee shop door whilst facing me, ‘but you don’t look okay. I mean, you look great, but also a bit upset?’
‘I’ll survive,’ I said, trying to wipe as much carnage off my face with the back of my hand as I could.
‘Is that a Gloria Gaynor man trouble I’ll survive?’ He pulled down the shutters, then frowned as if he realised he might have overstepped the barista-customer boundaries. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to pry.’
‘No, no, it’s fine. It is indeed man trouble. How did you guess?’
‘Just a hunch.’ He reached into his pocket. ‘Here,’ he said, taking out a handkerchief. A hanky? Very old-school.
‘Thanks,’ I said, trying to clean the rest of my face and wiping off what remained of my foundation in the process.
‘Thanks, but seriously, are you okay? You look like you could do with a drink and a pair of sympathetic ears. Shall we go to the pub across the road?’ he asked. ‘Come on. I hate to see you upset. You’re normally always smiling. Let me try and cheer you up.’
‘Thanks, er…sorry, this is terrible, but I don’t know your name.’ I winced.
‘It’s Josh,’ he said, seemingly unoffended.
‘Josh. Right. Great. Um, I’m not sure, Josh. Right now, I just want to go home and be alone,’ I said.
‘That’s probably the worst thing you can do. Well, that and playing break-up songs.’ Busted. How did he know that was what I planned to do? ‘Plus it’s my first Saturday night off in ages and I’m gasping for a Jack Daniels but don’t fancy drinking alone, so you’d be doing me a favour,’ he said.
Josh looked at me with his twinkly brown eyes and I wanted to melt. How could I say no to that face?
‘Well…’ I paused, considering his suggestion. ‘If it means I’ll be doing you a favour, I suppose I could help you out. I like to do my bit for charity when I can,’ I said, managing to muster up a smile.
‘Wow, a real-life philanthropist!’ he said. ‘Well, I am very happy that you’ve chosen me as your charity case of the week. And to demonstrate my gratitude, if you’re lucky, I might even throw in a latte on the house the next time you come to Cuppa.’
‘Okay. Sold,’ I replied, the cloud of sadness slowly starting to lift from my shoulders.
Although it was going to take a while to get over the shock of seeing Eric with Nicole again and block out yet another gut-wrenching vision of them all over each other from my memory, Josh was probably right. Being at home alone, where no doubt I’d just curl up in bed sobbing whilst replaying what I’d seen over and over again, wouldn’t be good for my sanity. Whereas going for a drink with the hot coffee shop guy who, as well as having good looks, also seemed to be caring and funny seemed like a much more positive option. Far healthier for my soul. Provided I didn’t get all nervous and mess things up, of course…
No, no. I would be fine.
Yes. The evening had started off badly. But now as I walked through the doors of the bustling pub, I had a feeling that tonight was about to improve significantly.
Chapter Sixteen
‘What would you like?’ said Josh as we approached the bar.
‘Sex on the Beach, please.’
Josh’s eyes popped out of his head.
‘Whoa, steady. That’s a bit forward! We’ve only just met!’
‘The cocktail…’ I blushed.
‘Don’t worry, Emily, I was only joking.’ He grinned. ‘Just trying to make you laugh.’ That was sweet of him. Good that he had a sense of humour. ‘Even though I’m not really a cocktail guy, I’ve heard of that one. Although, I’m not even sure if they do cocktails in this pub, so if they don’t, is there anything else you fancy?’
‘Um, a Southern Comfort and lemonade please.’
‘Single or double?’ He turned to face me. ‘Actually, forget I asked. You’ve had a tough night. Double it is.’
‘Good call. And at least if you have to carry me home, it’s only across the road,’ I joked.
‘Am I in the company of a lightweight?’ asked Josh.
‘Yeah, I am a bit, so don’t get me drunk, okay? Remember, I know where you work.’ I grinned.
‘Yes, you do. I better make sure I’m on my best behaviour.’ he smiled.
‘Not too well behaved, I hope.’ I winked.
Goodness. What had come over me? Just over an hour ago I had been crying over Eric, feeling like the world had come to an end, and now here I was flirting and laughing with the hot coffee shop guy (now that I knew his name, I really should start using it). Normally I’d be all tongue-tied with a man I’d just met. Especially someone like him. Not sure how I was managing to stay calm, but I hoped I could keep it up.
Whilst Josh queued to order the drinks, I hotfooted it to the toilets to try and clean my face up a bit and wash my mouth out. Although I was feeling a bit better, the idea of having a drink with him was still pretty nerve-wracking, and there was no way I was going to make things harder for myself by sitting in front of him worrying about having vomit breath and mascara streaks running down my cheeks.
I shoved a handful of mints in my mouth and chewed them as quickly as I could. As I came out of the ladies’, Josh was just being served. We picked up our drinks, then found a table tucked away in the corner. Lucky that couple were leaving as we came in, as being a Saturday night, understandably it was busy and we wouldn’t have had anywhere to sit otherwise.
I liked it here. It was a typical British pub. Dark wooden interior, burgundy walls and patterned carpet. I hadn’t been here for ages, but I remembered it being a nice, relaxed place to come for a few drinks.
‘Here’s to surviving,’ said Josh, raising his glass to mine. ‘Cheers!’
‘Cheers,’ I reciprocated. ‘And thank you.’
‘I haven’t done anything yet,’ said Josh.
‘Oh, but you have. I was feeling rubbish before, and already I’m feeling so much better.’
‘Blimey. You really are a lightweight. One sip of Southern Comfort and you’re already getting merry!’
‘Funny! You’ll know when I’m drunk.’
‘C’mon, then. What kind of drunk are you? Rowdy? Depressed? Gushy? Saucy?’ He smirked.
‘Hmmm.’ I placed my finger on my chin. ‘I’d say happy and gushy.’
‘Good. Because on what I earn from Cuppa, I wo
n’t be able to bail you out if you trash this pub and get arrested.’
‘Okay. I’ll do my best to behave.’
‘You won’t be too well behaved, I hope,’ he said, repeating what I’d said earlier with a wink. Quick-witted, cheeky, funny and hot. Hmm…I was keen to find out more about him.
‘So,’ I said, ‘Cuppa—what led you to work there?’
His smile faded.
‘Oh, no, no, no,’ he said quickly. ‘Tonight isn’t about me. It’s about you talking, me listening, then sharing my thoughts.’
‘Right,’ I said, taking the hint that he didn’t want to speak about himself.
‘So tell me, what happened?’ He paused. ‘That is, if you want to, of course. No pressure as I know you don’t know me from Adam. I mean you know me from Cuppa, but—anyway, joking aside, you seemed really upset and sometimes it helps to talk to someone you don’t know. To get a more objective opinion. I’ve been told I’m a good listener, and I’m also good at keeping secrets, so whatever you say will stay between us.’
He was right. I didn’t know him. I’d only learnt his name literally half an hour ago. Yet somehow I felt like I could talk to him, that he would be a good listener and be discreet.
‘Well…’ I paused, reflecting again about whether it was a good idea to tell a complete stranger about my love life. After all, when Chloe and Kat had first suggested I speak to him, I’d told them it would be too messy. That things would become awkward. And that was when they’d just suggested I start by finding out his name. How comfortable was I really going to feel ordering a latte from a guy who knew how badly I had been humiliated? Revealing that I was so undesirable my ex had dumped me for another woman was hardly the best way to endear myself to a hot guy.
But, I reasoned, I was getting carried away. Potential awkwardness would only arise if we dated and then broke up. To date, he’d have to like me, and look at him: beautiful glowing skin, dark beard, eyes that you could get lost in for days, hair I’d love to run my fingers through, and from the way his black T-shirt clung to his muscular chest and arms, a body that looked toned to perfection. He could have any woman he wanted, so what made me think he’d choose me?
I know, I know. I’m supposed to believe in myself, be confident, say he’d be lucky to have me, think about my inner beauty shining through and channel all of that strong woman stuff, but I didn’t feel strong. Not right now, anyway. I was getting there. On the way to the restaurant, I was feeling confident. Happy. I was getting my mojo back. But at the moment, it was like I’d been knocked straight back to square one.
And let’s get real. Most mornings that I dragged myself to the coffee shop, I was wearing leggings, a baggy jumper and zero make-up. Hardly sexy. Add to that how terrible I must have looked right now and you’d understand why I would not be feeling remotely desirable.
So I came to the conclusion that there was no danger of any post-hook-up or post-dating awkwardness. He was just a kind guy that saw me looking upset, was at a loose end and thought hearing about my problems would be more entertaining than watching TV and that having a drink with me would help pass the time. Nothing more, nothing less.
And with that in mind, I decided to take a chance. To trust him. Tell him what happened. Warts and all.
‘Okay,’ I said, taking a deep breath for courage. ‘So in a nutshell, I was on my way to a restaurant to attend a sort of organised dining group thing my friend had booked for me and just as I was about to go in, I saw my ex all over the woman he cheated on me with, and I got upset. Oh, and as well as cheating with her for the last six months of our relationship, he also recently proposed to the same woman and splashed it across social media, which is how I found out.’
‘Shit,’ said Josh, putting his head in his hands. ‘That sucks. If you don’t mind me asking and it’s not too painful to talk about, how did you find out he was cheating?’
‘I had to go to Manchester to meet a client I’ve known for years and wasn’t due back until late as they’d originally wanted to take me to dinner and I’d planned to get the train back to London afterwards. But then the client had a family emergency, so I came home earlier that evening and walked in to see him and her going at it like rabbits.’
‘That is the worst.’ Josh winced. ‘I can’t imagine how awful that must have been for you.’
‘It was,’ I said, reliving the pain. ‘Even talking about it now is difficult.’
‘Sorry,’ said Josh. ‘I shouldn’t have asked.’
‘No, no. It has to be done. I have to get it out of my system. If I’m honest, I knew that something wasn’t right. You know, when you look back with the benefit of hindsight, you see the signs. The messages saying he had to work late again. Coming home smelling of shower gel, even though he’d supposedly been slaving away at the office for twelve hours. Just little things. But at the time, you dismiss them. And whenever I quizzed him, somehow he’d have an answer for everything and make me sound like a paranoid, jealous idiot.’
‘Bastard,’ said Josh.
‘Yep. And do you know what? Even when he got caught red-handed, I don’t remember him even saying he was sorry.’
‘You’re joking,’ said Josh.
‘Nope. His exact words were: “Emily! Shit. I thought you weren’t back until after eleven.”’
‘No way.’
‘I kid you not. Then he said, “I know this is awkward, but, Em, I think we need to talk.” No shit, Sherlock!’
‘What? So did you stay and talk?’ asked Josh.
‘No. I’d seen more than I needed to. I picked up my bag and went straight round to my friend Chloe’s house.’
‘I don’t blame you.’
‘He tried calling me, but I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. I felt like my heart had been ripped out and fed though an industrial-strength shredder. I didn’t eat properly for days. If you’re looking for a quick way to lose weight, walking in on your boyfriend screwing someone else will definitely do the trick.’
I didn’t add the fact that you end up putting it all back on again and then some after comfort eating to get over the breakup.
‘Christ,’ said Josh.
I took a large gulp of my drink. God. Talking about this was tough. Maybe I should have ordered a triple rather than a double.
‘So anyway, after Chloe force-fed me for a week, I finally had the courage to go back home. She’d already gone round there the day before to check that he’d left and cleared out his stuff. She got the locks changed and straightened up the place for me. She even ordered a new mattress, bless her.’
‘That’s what you call a great friend,’ said Josh.
‘The best,’ I said.
‘And so have you spoken to him since?’
‘We had to exchange a few texts to sort out home stuff—you know, get his name taken off bills, admin, that kind of thing. But other than that, no. I loved him, I trusted him, and rather than coming to me and telling me that he wasn’t happy, he was unfaithful. Not just a drunken one-night stand, which I’m not saying is any better, but a full-blown affair. For something to go on for that length of time, it involves, plotting, planning, prolonged and very conscious deceit.’ My blood ran cold as I thought about the betrayal. ‘It was just so hurtful. So painful.’
‘Infidelity is the worst.’ He shuffled in his seat a little. ‘My dad had an affair when I was thirteen and left us for the other woman. It almost destroyed my mum. Seeing someone who was always so strong and happy suddenly crumble and hearing her crying herself to sleep every night was heart-breaking. She tried to hold it together for me, but she was a shell of what she was like before. She didn’t want to see her friends, and like you said, she stopped eating, she lost weight. The sparkle in her eyes just disappeared overnight. It was awful. And I couldn’t do anything to help her.’
‘That must have been hard on you too,’ I said. It couldn’t have been easy for him to relive those memories or to share them with me, someone he barely knew, either.
&nb
sp; ‘It was. At that age, you’re also insecure, so you start thinking, was it me? Was it something I did? Maybe if I got better grades at school, they would have been happier. Maybe if I kept my room tidy or didn’t answer back when they asked me to do my chores. All sorts of crazy things went through my mind. I just wanted to make everything better for my mum, but I couldn’t. I haven’t wanted to have anything to do with my dad since. Infidelity ruins lives. To me, it’s that bad. I could never stay with a woman who cheated. And I would never cheat on my girlfriend. No way.’
‘Forgive me for asking, Josh, and for stereotyping a little—well, in fact, a lot—but are you saying that you’ve never cheated?’
‘Never,’ said Josh.
Likely story. I found that hard to believe.
‘Really?’ I questioned.
‘Absolutely. Why don’t you believe me?’ Josh frowned.
‘It’s just that—’ I paused, thinking about how to word things delicately. ‘How can I say this? Women cheat, of course they do, but infidelity is more common amongst men, no? And someone like you, I mean, it must be more of a challenge surely?’
‘I don’t follow.’ Josh frowned again. ‘Someone like me?’
‘Well…’ I sighed, realising there was no way around saying that he was hot. ‘A guy like you must get a lot of attention, so it must be harder not to stray.’
‘I don’t think I get any more attention than the next guy,’ he said modestly, ‘but even if I did, it wouldn’t matter. If I’ve made a commitment to someone I love, then that’s it. I don’t care if Scarlett Johansson, Rihanna or Salma Hayek knocked on my door, I’m staying faithful to my lady.’
‘If that’s true,’ I said, convinced that it absolutely wasn’t—I mean, who would turn down Rihanna?—‘then that’s really lovely.’
‘Lesson number one that I’d like you to take home with you tonight, Emily, is that all guys are not the same. We’re not all cheats and liars. When you’ve seen first-hand what infidelity can do, you couldn’t even consider putting someone you love through that kind of pain.’
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