I put on the fluffy hotel gown, walked onto the patio and looked out. I wondered how much dregret Alex the facemask man had this morning. God, I hoped I didn’t see him today, I didn’t have the energy for any kind of a conversation. I barely had the energy to breathe right now.
But from here, the sea did look rather inviting. I didn’t have a bathing suit though. Perhaps the thing to do today would be to track one down and then lie by the beach inhaling cocktails until the dregret was washed away? And maybe I could wash Matt away too?I had to.I took in a deep breath, my lungs hurt,or was it my heart?I pulled my phone out and Googled the nearest store. It was fairly close so I decided to head out on foot.
The small shopping section in the village of Saint-Gilles was truly unique. I couldn’t compare it to anything I’d ever seen. The buildings were colorful and bright, almost luminous; oranges, yellows, pinks and greens splashed across everything in sight. The place looked like a Pantone paint strip or a drag queen’s make-up palette. And everything here was so French. I had no idea how French it all was until now. I was standing on arueopposite aplageand was suddenly very thankful for those mandatory two years of French I’d done at school, even though I’d absolutely hated them.
And there were certainly enough shops to choose from. I slipped into the nearest one and found what I was looking for. Rows and rows of bathing suits and bikinis. The very helpful woman let me try half the shop on before I decided on a super-cute yellow bikini. It looked so tropical and so appropriate for the beach—plus it was on sale. I grabbed a few summer dresses, the cheapest I could find, and headed back feeling somewhat determined.Yes, I was going to go to the beach, drink cocktails, lie in the sun and let its warm rays melt away Matt, and all the dregret, embarrassment and self-loathing that I was currently feeling.I could do this!
I arrived back at the hotel with a semi-limp. My knees were feeling very tight now that the big, ugly scabs had formed and I wished I’d taken a taxi instead. But I was still feeling determined to sea, sun and sand my emotions away. I walked across the lawn towards my room and that’s when I saw him.Again.
He had his back to me and the last thing I wanted was for him to turn around and see me. So I continued my walk carefully and slowly, hoping to escape his prying eye. But no, as if he could sense me, as if he knew I was there and could smell my fear, he turned and looked straight at me. My blood ran cold under the intensity of his gaze.
“You,” I said, wagging a finger at him. “You were wrong. Look.” I pulled the bikini out of the bag and waved it in front of his face mockingly. He looked at me with what was clearly disdain.
“I’m going to put this on now, and head to the beach and I’ll be over Matt in no time. Ha!” I scoffed at the creature. But he looked unconvinced. So I continued. “I will. Trust me. I am getting over him this time, once and for all.” But the more I said it, the less I believed it. He tilted his head and glared at me with a condescending eye.
“Mommy, look, that lady is talking to a tortoise.” I looked up and saw a little girl point at me. Her mother stood behind her and looked down at me with a strange look. She put her hands on her daughter’s shoulders and pulled her away.
“Come, dear, let’s leave the lady,” she said, rushing away from me as if she was concerned.
I straightened.God, was I going mad?
Suddenly I didn’t much feel like lying on a beach anymore, so I walked back to my room and crawled into bed.
Two Years Ago
14 Feb.
OMG OMG! Matt just messaged me and said he wants to tell me something really, really, really important. (He used three reallys in the message which has immediately started making me think certain thoughts!) Am trying not to freak out inside and let my mind run away from me—it is exactly one year since meeting him, after all. But my imagination has run. Am imagining confessions of love, falling into each other’s arms, kissing and sex. (NB—get wax before important announcement and put on sexy lingerie.)
14 Feb. (later that day)
Dear Diary,
Sam.
Short for Samantha.
That’s her name.
Yes, that is the name of the girl Matt just introduced to me . . . as his girlfriend. His girlfriend! That was the really, really, really important thing he wanted to tell me.
Apparently, he’s been on a dating app this entire time, since he’s known me, and they have been messaging each other for months. This means 2 things.
1.My so-called best friend lied to me about a girl he was into—why?
2.If he’s been on this app since we met, he never, ever had any romantic inclinations and intentions for me. Ever.
They even confessed love to each other before meeting. She lives in Cape Town so they hadn’t met until she flew out for their romantic Valentine’s first date. (I wonder if there was sex? What am I saying . . . OF COURSE THERE WAS SEX!)
I feel like such an idiot. I feel so embarrassed. Like a total loser. Might as well go online and order myself one of those male sex dolls that is also AI so it’s programmed to be like a real boyfriend too. (*NB—possible article idea there.)
Fuck! FUCK! I can’t write about this anymore. It’s too damn painful. I had to sit across the dinner table from her tonight and smile and try NOT to show that inside my heart was breaking. There was this painful tightening in my chest. This thick feeling in the back of my throat that made it hard to swallow. I felt nauseous and all I wanted to do was run to the bathroom and throw up. But I couldn’t.
I can’t. I don’t know. Maybe more later. But I’m not sure . . .
SAM!!!! (multiple exclamation marks for added fucking emphasis.)
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
