I’m even listening to a playlist called ‘Sad girl songs’ which I originally made as a joke, for all the soppy ballads I love, but now that just feels like a pathetic prophecy. Like I knew I was on the chopping block when I put all those Lewis Capaldi songs within easy reach.
I scoop another spoonful of ice cream into my mouth and sink deeper into the water, bubbles creeping up over my collarbones. The steam curls around me, warm and comforting like a blanket.
You know what, I think I’m in shock, because I really, truly wasn’t expecting Todd to dump me. If you’d told me something was going to happen, as pathetic as it may sound, my money would have been on him proposing. How tragic is that.
God, it really was such a shock.
One minute I was pulling him onto the dance floor, laughing, thinking he looked handsome in his suit. The next, he was looking at me like I was a problem he needed to solve, not someone he loved.
We were together for over a year. We’d talked about moving in together. Had actual conversations about locations, mortgages, how we’d decorate. I’d started mentally dressing the house, even though I didn’t know what it would look like. We’d even fantasised about building our dream house when we could.
Yikes. What if we had moved in together? We’d be scrapping over furniture and Netflix accounts – it would be much messier. I should count my blessings.
So by my count that’s one blessing. Nice.
I guess I just didn’t think we were broken. Not even close. I thought we were… normal. Happy, even. I know I was.
Some chocolate ice cream slides off my spoon and lands with a little plop in the bath. I stare at it as it floats, the water turning brown around it.
I’m not pathetic enough to scoop it up and eat it. Obviously not. But I am pathetic enough to just leave it there, bobbing among the bubbles like it belongs. Like some kind of dessert bath bomb.
I sigh and close my eyes. Out of sight, out of mind.
The worst part is, I know I’ll still have to see him. Todd. Because we share so many friends. Everyone’s tangled together – my friends are his friends and his friends are dating my friends, we’re in the same group chats, we go to the same events – he’s going to be at Kelsey and Neil’s wedding, for God’s sake.
I’ve managed to avoid him since Kelly and Logan’s wedding. That feels like a small win. And he’s stayed away too. Left me alone. Well, of course he has, he doesn’t want to be with me, orhave anything to do with me, so what would he say? ‘Hey, just checking in on the person I savagely dumped mid-slow dance?’
No. He’s long gone. I need to accept that. But first I need to wallow in the bath for the foreseeable future.
My phone rings, well, it vibrates on the side. I groan softly, almost in sync with it, lifting one arm from beneath the lukewarm water to grab it from the windowsill where it’s balanced precariously between a mostly drained glass of wine and a candle that’s seen better days.
I grab the phone carefully, my fingers slippery from the bathwater. One slip and it’s over – for both of us. It would be so like me to dunk it in the water. The only thing that could make today worse would be sobbing over a bag full of rice with my soggy phone somewhere in the middle.
It’s Kelsey. She’s probably the only person in the world I would answer to right now.
Well, her or maybe Tom Hardy, or Zac Efron, or pretty much anyone willing to sweep me off my feet and make Todd reconsider his life choices.
‘Hey,’ I say, my voice already softer, quieter, like the harder I try to sound okay the more I confirm that I’m not.
‘Aw, Jessa,’ she says. Her voice is like a hug. ‘How are you doing?’
‘Oh, you know,’ I say, letting my head fall back against the bath pillow. ‘As you’d expect.’
‘You’re in the bath, aren’t you?’ she says, and I can hear the smile in her voice. It’s half-amused, half-concerned – 100 per cent Kelsey. She knows me so well.
‘Of course I am,’ I reply.
‘Are you at least changing the water?’ she asks. ‘You were in the bath the last time I called. Tell me you get out to pee…’
I laugh, a real one, bubbling up from somewhere below the pain. It surprises me.
‘I’m spending time outside the bath and running fresh ones, I’ve not had a total breakdown. Not yet, anyway,’ I reassure her. ‘Although… I did just drop some chocolate ice cream in the water. I’ve made peace with it though.’
‘Chocolate ice cream? I’ll believe you,’ she replies.
I laugh again. It’s good to hear her voice.
‘So. I was calling to ask – do you want a lift to Al and Kira’s wedding this weekend?’ she says, cutting to the chase.
