Page 76 of Seven Exes

I’m fighting back tears. I want to argue and I want to tell her she’s wrong. But she’s not.

‘Esther,’ she starts again slowly, a change in her tone, ‘don’t hate me for saying this, but maybe it’s time to stop this mission? It’s been such a huge emotional drain for you. You’ve had such letdowns with Alistair, Paul and Idris. Then facing up to your history with the likes of lechy Carl! It must’ve been awful. It’s been an interesting journey but you don’thaveto finish it. We both know Rich is a bastard, through and through. It’s only going to be a terrible thing seeing him again. Especially when you’re going through such a rubbish time with Bibi and Alex.’

I consider her words. I think about what a relief it would be to agree. To end this and get back to my life. To throw myself back into my job instead of sabotaging everything. To admit I’m wrong about Bibi and go find her for a hug. To say sorry to everyone for being a selfish dick these last few months – forcing everyone to join me on this rollercoaster mission. It would be so freeing, so liberating for it to be done with and over.

But I can’t. I have to finish it. I’ve come too far with it all and put everyone through too much. I’ve waited too long for the night bus, I can’t give up and walk away now.

But what if Lou is right? What if a relationship won’t magically fix things? What if having someone at my side isn’t worth ruining my friendships and my career over?

I shake my head regretfully.

‘I’m going to finish it, Lou,’ I tell her simply. ‘I’m going to message Rich tonight.’

She looks alarmed. ‘Are you serious?’ Her voice is high. ‘Please don’t be serious. I never thought you would actually see Rich the Bastard. What if you get sucked into his charming bullshit again, Esther?’ She looks frantic. ‘Why not, er, make plans with Alistair and then see how you feel once you’ve ruled him in or out?’

I shake my head. ‘Nah, I’m not waiting anymore. This mission has taken over my life and you’re right about the emotional drain part. I need it done with. I should’ve been doubling up exes all along, it’s taken too long.’

Lou goes a purplish-red colour before exploding. ‘This is such a mistake! Can’t you see that? That bastard has a power over you and you won’t be able to resist him if you see him again! Don’t you know enough about that relationship to skip him? It only ended, like, eight months ago! Can’t you just picture how smug he’ll be when you come running back?’

‘I’m notrunning back!’ I sit up straighter. ‘And you clearly don’t understand. I need to do this, Lou.’

‘Butwhy?’ Her voice is desperate.

‘You wouldn’t understand,’ I say again, pulling out my phone, renewed determination pulsing through my fingers.

Lou stands up. ‘Well, I can’t sit here and watch you do this.’ She sounds a bit shaky. ‘I’ll leave you to it then.’ She walks slowly to the door, as if waiting for me to call her back.

‘See you later,’ I tell her shortly and she gives me one lastsad look before leaving. I hear her bedroom door slam just as the son-in-law pokes his head round.

‘I think the toilet is completely fucked up now,’ he laments.

‘It’s not the only one,’ I mutter, determinedly typing my message to Rich.

EX 7: RICH LOWEAKA The BastardPART ONE

Strawberry Moons

The bar

11.50pm

I feel his eyes on me before I see him. They’re like lasers, hot on the back of my neck.

Or maybe that’s just the tequila. After seven shots, a couple of bottles of wine and intense dancing for four hours straight, you’d be hard pressed to find any part of me that isn’t boiling hot.

Wiping my sweaty face with the back of my sleeve, I turn around, searching for something, and find the sexiest fucking eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. And they’re looking at me from across the room.

The man attached to the eyes is leaning against a pillar, watching me as I move to pay for yet more drinks. It has been hours since I cared what I looked like – hours of drinking and shouting ‘woo’ at my friends for no reason – with a blanket of booze blocking out how dumb we all looked to the revellers around us. Now, all that self-consciousness comes rushing back in. Suddenly I realize with harrowing self-awareness that I must look rancid. My clothes are misshapen on my body and my make-up has leaked everywhere. I suddenly – acutely – care about the fake tan on my arms that has migrated exclusively to my elbows, armpits and fingernail edges.

Carefully balancing the drinks I’ve just bought, I glance up again. He’s still watching, examining me with an almost clinical eye. For a moment I wonder if he is a doctor who’s noticed something wrong with me. Surely that’s more likely than a manthat hotfancying me? I’d struggle to believe a genuine fancy even when I look my best.

I stumble lightly – tipping the top inch of Bibi’s drink onto someone’s back. A large, burly man turns around, squaring up to me and roaring.

‘Sorry,’ I slur and he calls me a bitch.

‘Watch it,’ a stern voice warns him from behind me. ‘Don’t speak to girls like that.’

‘Fucking white knights,’ I mutter as I turn. ‘I don’t need your benevolent sexism, thank you. I’m perfectly capabl…’ I trail off when I realize it’s sexy eyes. ‘Oh, it’s you.’

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