“I’m gonna end things with him tonight.”
“Good.”
“I ordered gin instead of finishing the wine he chose, and he’s pissed off about it.”
“Dick head.”
“And, he dismissed our plans to go glamping in the outback . . .”
“Bloke’s an utter wanker . . .”
“Yep. You called it, as usual, I didn’t.”
“Scar, that’s not . . .”
“No, you were right, Zo. Giant red flags were being waved in my face from the first date. You saw them and haven’t even met him, while I made myself a blanky and wrapped myself in them. Anyway, we can dissect why I pick the wankers over wine tomorrow night, or maybe never, but for now, can you meet me at the bottom of the apartments?”
Zoe and I have adjoining apartments in the same complex. I love her, but she’s too untidy for me to live with ever again. Being neighbours means we’re together apart and gives us the best of both worlds.
“Why?”
“Because I’m not sure how he’s going to react when I tell him we’re done.”
“What? You’re bringing him back here to tell him? Just dump his arse in the restaurant if you’re worried.”
“I’m not gonna do that to him, Zo, not in public, and I’m not worried exactly . . . just, I don’t know. I don’t know him well enough to know how he’ll react. Can you just do that for me? Please?” I rattle off my plea.
“Stop whinging. I’m already on my way down.”
“Thanks. Love you. Bye.”
I end the call, and because I’m there, I head into and use the toilet.
* * *
Tonight was justour fourth date. He’d never been back to mine. I’d never been to his. We hadn’t even slept together. But the red flags had started to flap in my face by the end of our second date—although, according to Zoe, they’d been waving proudly since the first—I’d needed the third to confirm everything my head and my best friend were telling me, and because I’m such a do-gooding softy, instead of just turning down another date, I’d agreed to a fourth so I could end things face to face.
I think I also secretly hoped Zoe was wrong. That Matt was, in fact, perfect and exactly what my weary heart needed. He’s good-looking, successful, charming—at first glance—but then his true colours started to show. He’d talk over me—usually about himself—dismissed my opinions, and on our third date, he’d even cancelled the restaurant I’d booked, and changed it to one he felt was ‘more appropriate for a date night’, then, when I arrived, he tried to order for me. The way he’d reacted to my glamping story tonight was further proof that what I was about to do, was absolutely the right thing.
He’d finished eating when I’d returned to our table, and both of our plates had been cleared.
There was minimal conversation as I drank my gin, and he’d asked for the bill before I’d even finished, remaining silent during our short walk back to mine, where he’d parked his car.
When we reach the doorway to the building, I come to a stop. Matt instantly moves his hands to my hips and looks down at me.
“You know I could be away for a whole two weeks, right?”
Unsure of where he’s going with this, I nod.
“Tonight’s our fourth date, another two weeks away, that’ll equate to over a month we’ve been seeing . . .”
“Actually, we need to talk,” I interrupt, his fingers digging into my hips as I do. “There’s no point dragging this out while you’re away, so best to put it out there now . . .”
“Put it out there?” He cuts me off this time. The venom in his voice has me stepping back and away from him.
“You’ll regret this, Scarlett. Justputting it out there,” he almost spits the words through his gritted teeth, making my scalp and the hairs on my arms prickle.
“I’m sorry, but . . .” I start before he interrupts me again.
