Page 21 of Sorry, Not Sorry
‘Please don’t remind me. I’m breaking into a cold sweat just thinking about him,’ Delilah said heavily. She put down her glass and sighed. ‘Salome’s only gone and put Carl on the list.’
‘Carl… Wait! Isn’t that the guy you were seeing when we first started the course? But that’s ludicrous!’
Delilah nodded with a pained smile and picked up her glass again. The alcohol was rapidly numbing her brain, but it was going to take more than two bottles of Prosecco to blot out her time with Carl. She’d kept his number in her list of phone contacts, but only so she’d know not to answer if he ever tried to call.
‘It was Carl who—?’ Armenique started, and Delilah cut in emphatically before she could finish.
‘Yep.’
‘Jeez! He was such an arse – no offence. I remember how he’d crack these really bad jokes and then laugh like a drain. He was okay looking, but definitely not boyfriend material. What on earth did you see in him?’ Armenique asked bluntly.
Delilah screwed her face up in bewilderment and held up her palms. ‘I wish I knew! I met him long before I started the counselling course. He used to come into the café for a cup of tea and a chat when I was still waitressing. I’d just finished a relationship and was going through a bit of a bad patch, so I suppose having someone to banter and have a bit of a flirt with took my mind off things. He took it way more seriously than me, and if I’m honest, we only lasted so long because he worked on a cruise ship and only flew back for the odd weekend. By the time I started the course, he’d finally clocked that I wasn’t into him, which was when?—’
‘—he started sending you flowers at college every day. I still remember those rambling poems and love letters he’d send with words he’d cut out of magazines. God, that was so creepy! No wonder you cut him loose.’ Armenique shuddered. ‘What was your sister thinking putting him on the list?’
‘She says it’s because technically we lasted longer than six months and that ghosting him when he was desperately in love with me wasn’t “compassionate” – which is bollocks because Carl deserved to be dumped and I’m not sorry at all!’
Delilah frowned into her wine glass while her foot tapped along to Cyndi Lauper shrieking ‘Girls Just Wanna Have Fun’. Salome was seriously out of order for making her contact a man who’d already proved he couldn’t take no for an answer.
Another hour and three more glasses of Prosecco later, the world looked a lot rosier. The small dance floor was packed with people boogieing to popular eighties disco tracks and Delilah, merry from the booze and flushed from singing along with the crowd, was feeling on top of the world. So much so that when an equally sozzled Armenique suggested they call Carl so Delilah could stop stressing and take him off the list, any resistance on her part quickly slipped away.
‘If you don’t want to speak to him, just send him a text,’ Armenique urged, trying not to slur her words. ‘Go on! Do it now before you bottle it again.’
‘Okay, okay!’ Delilah giggled. ‘But what if he?—’
‘You’ll never know if you don’t try,’ Armenique said, speaking slowly and deliberately, and wagging a finger in Delilah’s direction. ‘Right, let’s go. First off, knock back the rest of that glass.’
Delilah dutifully obliged, and Armenique instructed, ‘Now, take out your phone.’
Delilah pulled her phone from her bag and frowned dubiously at the screen. ‘Hold on, isn’t there a law against drinking and texting?’
‘Don’t worry, girl. I’ve got you.’
Hi Carl, it’s me, Delilah. I need to talk to you.
She typed the words and glanced up at Armenique, who nodded reassuringly. Drawing in a sharp breath, Delilah pressed send, immediately dropping the phone on the table as if she’d been burned.
They stared intently at the phone and less than a minute later, it pinged with a text.
Why, what do you want?
Delilah picked up the handset as gingerly as if she was handling a rabid dog and tried to focus on the words. She thought for a moment through a haze of alcohol and then typed.
Can we meet?
I’d rather not.
Taken aback by the abrupt response, Delilah’s hackles immediately rose. After everything Carl had put her through, the least he could do was consider her incredibly polite request. Feeling no more prepared to take no for an answer than Carl had been two years earlier, she jabbed out another message.
Why not? I just want a few minutes of your time. That’s all.
No! I’m working through healing myself and SETTING BOUNDARIES! You know your trouble, don’t you? Women like you say you want a man who can open up and share his feelings and then when he does, it’s TOO MUCH for you!! I spent a fortune on flowers, and it took me ages to make you those letters! I literally poured my heart and soul out to you. For what?? For you to block my calls and just disappear. No explanation??? No NOTHING???
Jolted, Delilah read Carl’s furious message twice, the high from the Prosecco slowly seeping away like air from a deflating balloon. Was there anyone she hadn’t messed up? Too much alcohol combined with the vitriolic text brought sudden tears to her eyes.
Armenique leaned over and gently prised the phone out of Delilah’s hand, her lips forming a silent ‘wow’ as she read the message.
‘Not much sign of any healing going on there.’ She looked up at Delilah with raised eyebrows.
