It smelled like him and a club and bad decisions. Sophie asked if I was “keeping souvenirs now”. I am. Obviously.
Tag: honesty
Group Chat Named Him
We never use real names. This week he’s “Mayfair Suit.” Last week he was “Wrong Uber.” Sophie clocked the pattern. Said I need a hobby that isn’t collecting aliases. Rude. Accurate.
Sunday Roast Turned Into Gossip
One bottle in and suddenly everyone’s ex has a name, a job, and a disappointing bedroom habit. I contributed. Obviously. I’m not going to sit there looking saintly.
I Deleted Him At Breakfast
He was sweet in the dark and mid in daylight. I finished my coffee, blocked the number, and borrowed Sophie’s concealer. Efficient. Some would call it cold. I call it Tuesday.
I Told The Wrong Story
Recited last Friday to a girl at a lunch who turned out to be his sister. She laughed like it was funny. It wasn’t. I still finished the anecdote. Commitment to the bit.
We Never Made It Upstairs
Hallway. Shoes still on. Someone’s Amazon parcel as a pillow. Romance is dead and I’m throwing the funeral.
Sophie Made A Chore Chart
It now includes “remove strange men before 9am” and “buy more loo roll after weekends”. I initialled it in lip gloss.
Bathroom Stall Was Unexpectedly Romantic
Romantic is generous. Functional. His belt buckle kept hitting the dispenser. I still came. That’s the bit I’ll leave in.
Sophie Caught Us Mid Thrust
Thought she’d gone to her mum’s. She hadn’t. Door opened, I was on all fours, he didn’t stop. She just said “for fuck’s sake Chels” and shut it. Breakfast was awkward.
Her Husband Watched From Chair
She asked. I said yes because I’m nosy and horny. He didn’t touch me, just sat there. Weirdly hot. She texted the next day like we were booking lunch.