Her name flashes on the screen, and you struggle to contain the glee. You wipe your fingers deftly on a random towel, settling the knife on the chopping board. You hold the cell to your ear, grinning.
“What’s up, hon?”
“I’m going to be late from work, sweetheart, could you possibly keep my dinner in the oven?”
It’s not like her to give such short notice, but you don’t doubt the hectic lifestyle of a doctor. You send your love and assurances before resuming chopping the vegetables in a less enthusiastic manner. You’re about the set the pre-picked films back on the shelf, before noticing the return date on The Hobbit DVD.
The due date is today. You glance at the clock, there ...view middle of the document...
It couldn’t be anything massively dissimilar this time.
What you have is something real.
You repress a sigh as you read the text. The one morning you’re on this side of the river for some meeting, and she’s too busy to have lunch. You’ve always admired her dedication to her job, but you don’t half begrudge the ward rounds that keep her attentions from you.
A pair of obnoxious orange trainers catches the corner of eye. You smile and open your mouth to call out to your best friend. Until you realise his arm reaching for that of your girlfriend. He swoops down to embrace her, pressing his lips against both her cheeks, received with her wide smile.
With his arm still draped around her shoulders, they walk into Ann Summers – of all places.
Hating yourself for this, you peek through the window. No doubt passers-by would think you’re perving on the lingerie displays, but your attention is focused only on her holding a black, lacy basque to her figure. Her smile is unmistakably flirtatious, and his eyes darken in appreciation.
You dart into the store, hiding behind an aisle of underwear as they approach the till.
“I’ve got the supplies for dinner too,” he says. “Maybe we could go look at some edibles in here, too.”
The brunette laughs, and punches his arm playfully.
You don’t want to see any more of this. As soon as they leave, you decide to make a call. Not to her this time.
“Kind of busy with work right now, dude,” he replies smoothly.
“Really?” A sales assistant glares at your loud growl and accidental groping of several padded bras. “Sounds like you’re outside, by the sound of the car horns.”
You tiptoe comically out of the shop, to see them standing outside the jewellery store. You friend winces at his error.
“Popped out to get some coffees, you know how cranky the team gets with caffeine.” He barks a short laugh, not giving you room for reply. “I’ll call you at lunch.”
He hangs up and they enter.
It’d be undoubtedly easier to confront both of them in person. You saunter over to the store, peeking through the limited gap through the window. She’s sweeping her dark curls to one side, him clasping a chain around her bent neck. A light smile played on her lips as she looks down at her mobile.
Your phone buzzes.
Going to be working late again.
Vision clouded by tears, you stumble to make your way back to the car park.
This is unbelievable. The girl of your dreams with the friend you’ve known since primary school.
She’d never made any complaint. Professed her love forever. Had she gotten bored? Wanting something new? Someone new?
He had been the first to notice her during freshers’ week, after all. You remember how he’d hit on her relentlessly until your own attentions became too obvious.
You have been consistently the most popular twosome throughout school and university. Funny, athletic and wealthy, he was the only one who could’ve ever challenged for you for the golden boy crown. He’d never fought you over anything. Was he tired of the...