My Great Ex-Scape
Page 15
Josh moves his face closer to mine. I lean forward to meet him in the middle. Our lips touch. It’s like a kiss that isn’t quite a kiss. A peck that could be something so much more except Josh pulls away.
‘Shit, sorry,’ he says. ‘I… I shouldn’t have done that, I’m…’
Oh God.
‘No, I, erm…’ I don’t know what to say either.
‘I’m going to go,’ he says. ‘Sorry.’
Josh doesn’t even wait for me to reply, he just turns on his heels and practically runs away from me. He regrets kissing me so much he can’t even look me in the eye.
Now do you see what I mean? If there is a way for moments to turn so completely and utterly embarrassing for me, they absolutely will. It’s just my luck.
23
It’s nice to wake up in bed with someone next to you, isn’t it? Someone to cuddle up to when it’s cold. Someone to make you feel better when you’ve had a nightmare. Someone to spoon with on lazy Sundays, kissing, listening to the rain, watching TV while you drink tea and make plans for the day, for the week, for the rest of your lives. One of the things I miss the most when I am single is having someone to share a bed with. It’s a kind of company you just can’t get from anyone but a partner, isn’t it? Well, how often do you share a bed with someone you’re not romantically involved with?
Yes, I absolutely love sharing a bed with someone… if I remember going to bed with them in the first place. I can safely say there is nothing nice about waking up in a bed with someone you don’t remember going to bed with because that’s what I’m dealing with right now. I woke up on my side, facing out of the bed, and thought I could feel the warmth of a body behind me, but I assumed it was just single-girl early-morning delusions… but then, when I extended my leg behind me I collided with someone else’s leg. Now I’m too scared to move. I’m petrified to roll over and see who it is.
I wouldn’t say that I was a huge drinker – in fact, I get drunk quite quickly. Usually I hit the point where I feel emboldened to do things that I wouldn’t usually – like spend a bunch of money on a bunch of dresses that make me look like an overstuffed sausage – but I never get so drunk that I have a Hangover-style night where I wake up the following morning with no recollection of what happened the night before, but I absolutely don’t remember getting in bed with a man last night, so what the hell happened?
I remember my awkward kiss with Josh that sent him running for the hills… I went to my suite, I had a few drinks on my own… did he come back? Did he see the error of his ways or just double down on his mistake? Would I really not remember?
I ponder alternatives, but the best I can come up with is that perhaps someone somehow walked into the wrong suite. Or did some random drunk wander in? Perhaps I didn’t close the door properly… Such a terrifying thought gives me the surge of energy I need to jump to action, sitting up quickly, spinning round to see who my bed buddy is, all while carefully pulling the covers up high over my upper body, even though I’m wearing the vest top I’ve been sleeping in.
‘Oh my God, what? What?’ the man says, jumping up too.
It turns out that a drunk has wandered in and got into bed with me. It isn’t a random drunk though, it’s my drunk. It’s Eli.
‘You gave me a bloody heart attack,’ I say as I lie back down, now I know that I’m safe.
‘Who the hell else did you think was going to be in bed with you? A different ex?’ Eli is joking, but as he says this, he remembers that I do actually have another ex on board, and he reads me like a book. ‘Were you with Josh last night?’ he asks. ‘In here? You saucy minx!’
‘No, I wasn’t,’ I quickly insist. ‘We were on the way back here, just to hang out, I hasten to add, when… I don’t know what happened, something happened, and we kissed… sort of… our lips barely touched for three seconds before he pulled away, like he was making the biggest mistake of his life, and then he ran away. Literally ran away. Like, the speed with which his legs removed him from the situation only dented my ego further.’
‘Aww, baby,’ Eli says as he lies back next to me. He lifts an arm and pats his chest, silently telling me to rest my head there.
I shuffle into place.
‘He obviously wanted to kiss you,’ Eli says as he strokes my hair.
‘No one wants to kiss me,’ I point out.
‘I’ll kiss you, if you like,’ he says, and I’m 99% certain he is joking, but you never quite know with Eli.
‘So the only person who is willing to kiss me is a gay guy, and it’s only out of pity, he doesn’t actually want to kiss me,’ I say. ‘Great.’
‘No, I do want to,’ he says. ‘It’s like… you know how when you always eat a pepperoni pizza and every now and then you decide to have a Hawaiian for a change, but it only reminds you that pepperoni pizzas are the one for you…’
At least now I know he’s winding me up.
‘So in this scenario I am not only a pizza you don’t want, but the most divisive pizza on the planet? Marvellous.’
‘There she is,’ Eli says. ‘I can feel your little cheeks smiling down there, don’t pretend you’re all depressed.’
‘I know, I’m fine,’ I insist. ‘It was just embarrassing.’
‘That’s just life,’ he says. ‘Why don’t we go for breakfast and put it all behind us? Eat a bunch of pastries, that will make you feel better.’
‘How did you end up here? In bed with me?’ I ask. ‘Where is lover boy?’
‘He was up early for a rehearsal for something or other… I figured I’d just come back here. My plan was to wake you up, but you looked so peaceful, snoring your little head off.’
‘I do not snore,’ I insist.
‘You will never know, will you? Anyway, I plonked myself down next to you, saw you sleeping, thought I’d let you get another hour or so and I guess I dropped off… Next thing I know, you’re waking up in a flap.’
‘I promise you, it was scarier for me,’ I tell him. ‘Breakfast would be good though.’
‘OK, well, why don’t you go and have a quick shower, freshen up, sort that hair out – lord knows, it needs a brush – I just have a little bit of work to do.’
‘I thought you weren’t working on holiday,’ I remind him.
‘It’s just a couple of quick emails, it’s no big deal. Now go and have a shower so we can eat. And wash your hair, I can’t handle any more dry shampoo. Honestly, it’s like being in a sandstorm.’
I know that Eli’s teasing is a form of affection and it comforts me more than he will ever know.
‘OK, fine, fine, I’ll go and wash my hair. Just know that I only do this on special occasions.’
‘I already know this,’ he assures me. ‘Hurry up.’
I already feel a little more relaxed, just for having Eli around. He really does help to put things in to perspective, or, at the very least, distract me from the things that are on my mind. Perhaps if I keep him with me all day I’ll be able to face bumping into Josh, because I know I’m going to wind up face to face with him sooner or later. That is, if he doesn’t run away again.
24
There are three different sizes of plates next to the breakfast buffet. The first is a tea plate, not very big, perfect if you just want to grab a quick croissant to go with your morning cup of coffee. Then we have your average dinner plate, a decent size, perfect for a full English, no matter where you stand on what actually belongs in a full English, because my dad got quite upset about hash browns the other day, despite actually eating four of them. And then there are the large plates, and they are large. Today is absolutely a large-plate day. I load it up with all the usual fodder – the beige junk that makes my taste buds happy but my metabolism sad. I don’t want to look like a complete piece of trash, so I take a yoghurt and some fruit too, giving my plate a much-needed dash of colour that will most likely remain there after I OD on pastry.
‘Oh, look, there’s André,’ Eli says innocently, although he’s not fooling anyone.
‘Let’s sit with them,’ Eli suggests.
He doesn’t give me chance to reply before marching over with his plate, taking a seat next to his new squeeze. The only seat for me is between Eli and Amanda, the Atlantic’s answer to Adele.
‘Good morning, campers,’ Eli says.
‘Morning,’ I say sheepishly.
I can hardly look at Josh, not that it matters. It turns out he can’t look at me at all, he just stares as his scrambled eggs.
‘How is everyone doing today?’ Eli asks.
‘I’m doing great,’ André says, all smiles. You can tell he’s so into Eli, and who can blame him? Despite being completely different types on paper, they are perfect for each other, and they make a really gorgeous couple. ‘We’re having a bit of a party, after our set this evening – it’s our last evening set before we arrive in New York, we usually make a big thing of it. It’s going to be an incredible show, then we’re all going to meet in the aft lounge.’
‘They let us commandeer it for one night per crossing,’ Josh says, still not really looking up. ‘It’s a public event, but most of the passengers would rather be relaxing in the posh bars, rather than listening to music, drinking and dancing with us.’
‘Sometimes a few people show up,’ Amanda adds. ‘It’s rare they stay long though, with so many other places to go.’
‘Sounds awesome,’ Eli enthuses.
‘You should come,’ André insists. There’s a real optimism in his eyes, coupled with a case of the nerves. I think it’s cute that he’s still so nervous around Eli, even though Eli is completely smitten. Perhaps that is the key to a long and healthy relationship, to never get too comfortable or feel too safe. I’m not saying we should be on edge all the time, just that perhaps if we all considered our relationships to be a little more delicate, despite how solid they may seem, we might just take care of them a little better.
‘Can I bring a friend?’ Eli asks.
‘Of course, bring a friend, have your friend bring a friend,’ he replies excitedly.
I pick up a pastry from my huge plate. An almond croissant, which I pull the end off aimlessly. I can’t quite bring myself to eat it, not sitting at this table with the awkward energy there is between me and Josh. You could cut the tension with a knife, even the blunt butter knife Eli is using to slather butter on his toast. I can’t believe, after I told him what happened last night, he has actually brought me to this table to sit with these people. I shouldn’t be annoyed with him though, perhaps he isn’t thinking about me at all, perhaps all he’s thinking about is André and how much he wants to spend time with him. He probably doesn’t even think I care about what Josh thinks of me, given that this is mostly a trip for me to go and see Simon. Sexy, successful Simon, who took one look at me making an arse of myself on YouTube and still sent me flowers telling me that he missed me.
I wonder if he’ll be surprised when I turn up on his doorstep – well, his work doorstep anyway. It will be nice to surprise him, and hopefully it will show him that I’m open to a reconciliation, if it feels right. Our relationship didn’t just leave me with trust issues, it left me with a lot of guilt. Guilt because I know that it was my fault that we broke up. I spent months suspecting that Simon was cheating on me. There was always just enough almost evidence to make me suspicious, but never the smoking gun that I needed to prove it. Keep in mind that this went on for so long that checking up on him practically became second nature to me. It might have been a bad learned behaviour, but it became a part of me, it grew roots that tangled my rational thoughts until I couldn’t find them in all of the mess. Things just went too far. I should have confronted him, but I was worried that would have just made him more careful. I just needed to catch him, to prove to myself that I wasn’t imagining it.
One day, while Simon was in the shower, I noticed his phone on charge next to his bed – unlocked. I’d spotted his passcode over his shoulder a few times, but he was forever changing it (which only added to my suspicions), and at that particular moment in time it felt like it had been a long time since he changed it – and he hadn’t let me within a mile of his phone since. Unable to help myself, I snatched it up and began riffling through his messages, looking for girls‘ names, or boys’ names, that I had never heard him mention before, but what caught my eye before any of that was a message sent by Simon, to his best friend, which said: I’ve got the ring, we’re going out for dinner tonight, I think I’m going to do it.
Suddenly it all made sense. Simon wasn’t being suspicious because he was cheating on me, he was being sneaky because he was planning on proposing. This shook me up in a different way. For starters, we had only been together for a year. Surely that was too soon to be getting married? It’s not that I didn’t love him, I was so sure that I did, but marriage...
I didn’t know what to do, but I prepared for every eventuality, and by that I mean I quickly returned Simon’s phone to his bedside table before spending an extra long amount of time getting ready. I made sure that my hair was perfect, my make-up was perfect, I even removed my red nail polish and replaced it with a gorgeous nearly nude pink shade, ready, just in case I might be snapping a photo of my ring-clad hand later in the evening. I still had no idea if I wanted to get married, but I trusted my instincts and felt confident that, whenever Simon did pop the question, I would just know the answer, like it would only come to me in that moment. Until then, even I didn’t know what my answer would be and that made me as nervous as it did excited.
Simon was always a snappy dresser, but I didn’t think much of it when he got ready and appeared to be dressed on the casual side. I’ll admit, I did think it was a bit weird when he took me to a crappy diner on the outskirts of town, rather than a nice restaurant which was more our usual scene – I just thought he was planning something elaborate; I didn’t think anything strange was going on. But we ate our food without much conversation (which I put down to him being nervous) and I carefully ate my dessert in tiny little bites, just in case there was a ring lurking somewhere in my ice cream, but by the time the bill was placed on our table, nothing had happened, until Simon placed a hand in his pocket and started rummaging around.
‘Rosie,’ he said. ‘I have something to ask you.’
I felt my heart jump into my mouth – I think I might have been on the verge of panicking, but then Simon pulled his wallet out.
‘Will you go halves on the bill?’ he asked.
Obviously I was expecting a much different question – I didn’t know what to say.
Simon, judging by my reaction, finally confessed to something, that he had been suspicious of me. It turns out that my sneaky searching through Simon’s phone was not actually all that sneaky. He had suspected for a while that I was checking up on him and, like me, he had never quite been able to prove it. So he’d set me up, laid a trap for me, pretended he was going to propose to me and then just watched me squirm all night, waiting for him to pop a question that was never going to come.
Naturally I was furious – well, what a dirty trick. I was so angry that I threw a cup of tea at him (just the contents, and they were already cold). We argued all night before Simon eventually called time on our relationship, saying that I needed to be able to trust him and he needed to be able to trust me.
I was so upset and angry, but, after I thought about it – long after our break-up – I realised that I drove him away with my insecurities. I suppose I always knew, at the back of my mind, that Simon could get any girl that he wanted and I guess, as far as I was concerned, that meant that he was getting any girl he wanted while he was with me. I imagined the whole thing and in the end it cost me my relationship. I just want to show him that I’ve changed, I’ve matured, I have put my issues behind me and I am open.
‘I watched a very interesting video la
st night, would anyone like to see it?’ Amanda asks, bringing me back to the present.
No one seems all that interested. Still, she whips her phone from the pocket of her jeans, loads something up with a few taps of her screen and then turns it around for us all to watch.
I’m probably the least interested of everyone, so I don’t even look. Instead I finally try to eat some of my breakfast. I’m no sooner chewing on a piece of croissant when I hear a familiar voice – my voice.
I snap my head in the direction of her screen to confirm my worst fear. It’s the video of me on One Big Question, getting dumped by Dinosaur Dave.
‘Oh, God, can you turn that off,’ I say.
‘Come on, Rosie, it’s just a bit of fun,’ she says before shushing me.
I’d made myself so comfortable on this cruise, knowing full well that none of the passengers would have seen my hit viral video, that I had almost managed to put it out of my mind. It had stopped being the movie playing behind my eyelids when I got in bed at night, it was no longer the conversation I was constantly replaying in my head in the shower, wondering what I could have said differently to make things not turn out like they did.
Yep, I knew that I would be safe from the passengers… I didn’t stop to think about the crew.
Josh isn’t having trouble looking at me now. His gaze keeps shifting from the real me to the me dying of shame on Amanda’s phone. I want to slap her phone from her hands, hoping it will land in her fruit salad and never work again, but it turns out that cruise ships have their own prisons (they have their own morgues too, which is a horrible thought) so I’d best keep out of trouble. The whole place seems like such a dream, but you forget that it has to be ready to tackle all the horrors of real life too. As much as it feels like life is put on hold for the week you are at sea, it isn’t at all.
‘OK, look, let’s not watch it,’ Eli says, speaking up for me. ‘You’ve seen it, we get it, she got dumped, who cares? If it hadn’t happened, she and I probably wouldn’t have reconnected, so, Rosie, as shit as it sounds, I’m glad it happened.’