My Ten-Year Crush by Olivia Spring
Chapter Thirty
It’s official.
Eating your body weight in ice cream, pizza and chocolates did not have a positive long-lasting effect on heartbreak.
Taking inspiration from the romcoms I’d seen where the main character used food to nurse a broken heart, on the way home last night I’d gone to the supermarket and filled my basket with a load of junk.
Over the past twenty-four hours, I’d consumed two tubs of Häagen-Dazs (strawberry cheesecake and cookies and cream), one large meat feast pizza, a slab of dark chocolate and a family-size packet of crisps. And my heart still felt like it had been trampled on by a herd of bulls, then fed through an industrial shredder before being incinerated.
Feeling guilty about all the rubbish I’d put through my body, I’d also just eaten two oranges in the hope that the vitamin C might help boost my mood, but nope. I still felt like crap.
I should’ve known better than to give my heart to Mike. I knew him so well, but yet I had chosen to ignore the foundation of his existence: to have fun, travel and enjoy life. Commitment and settling down to have a relationship in one country was not part of his plan. I’d always known that, but foolishly believed that I was special. That I’d be the one to miraculously tame him and that I’d be enough to make him stay. So stupid.
Lesson learned this time, though. I’d known something was off when he’d avoided talking about his plans after the course. And when he’d acted weird last night too. But I hadn’t heeded the warnings from my gut, and now I was feeling the consequences.
My buzzer went. If that was Mike, I’d be so angry. He’d been messaging and calling almost non-stop since last night.
The first few times I’d replied and answered, because I didn’t want to be rude and ignore him. Just because he’d acted like an arsehole didn’t mean I was going to forget my manners. He’d apologised multiple times and asked if we could meet to talk properly. But I told him there was nothing more to say. He had a new job—a great opportunity by the sounds of it—so he should take it. I then told him I’d be hanging up the phone and not to call again, and that if he did, I wouldn’t answer.
He ignored me, of course, and continued to call and text, but I forced myself not to answer. I’d already warned him that I wouldn’t be responding, so if he chose to continue trying to communicate, that was on him.
But in his last text, he suggested he could come round to talk. As soon as I read that, my chest tightened and my face burned. There was no way I could allow that to happen. So I broke my ban and replied to say:
NO. I don’t want to see you again.
If that wasn’t firm and clear, I didn’t know what would be.
The buzzer went again.
I stormed over to the intercom and picked up the receiver.
‘What?’ I snapped.
‘It’s me. Buzz me up, please.’
‘Cass?’ We’d had plans to meet for brunch earlier, but I’d cancelled. Now it was almost eight in the evening. I buzzed her in and opened my flat door.
She was lugging a big bag up the stairs.
‘I come bearing healthy food!’ she stepped inside, slid off her sandals and gave me a kiss on the cheek. ‘I won’t ask if you’ve put that nightdress on because you’re going to bed early or if you’ve had it on all day because you’re too sad to get changed. Oh…,’ she added as she walked into the kitchen. ‘I think I’ve got my answer…’
It looked like a bomb had exploded. The pizza box was open on the counter, with multiple half-eaten crusts, plus bits of meat and peppers that had fallen off. There was an empty bottle of wine beside it, the two containers of ice cream, dirty plates and cutlery, plus all the packets of the other junk I’d devoured but hadn’t put in the bin. In all honesty, considering how I felt, the fact that I’d even bothered to bring everything into the kitchen rather than just leave it on the sofa or on the bed where I’d eaten most of it was an achievement in itself.
‘I was just about to tidy up…’
‘Tidying up isn’t important right now. I can do that. I know you said you didn’t feel up to seeing anyone today, but I also know what heartbreak feels like, so I thought I’d check on you and bring you some proper food. A wise cousin of mine once told me that eating crap after a break-up always seems like a good idea at the time, but it also makes you feel, well, like crap afterwards, so eating healthily is important for keeping your strength up.’
I vaguely remembered saying something like that when Cassie had broken up with a boyfriend a year or so ago. It was weird having it quoted back to me. If only I’d taken my own advice and remembered that before I’d gone to the shop last night.
‘You didn’t have to.’
‘I know, but I wanted to.’ She unzipped the bag and started taking out containers. The spicy scent flooded my nostrils. ‘So tell me: how are you feeling now? One percent better? Ten percent worse?’
‘I’m fine. Much better than last night when I called you. It is what it is.’ I felt so embarrassed now I thought about how I’d phoned Cassie on the way home from the station, tears and probably snot running down my face as I’d told her what had happened. She’d offered to meet me then, but I’d said I’d go straight to bed when I got home.
Just as I’d walked through the door, Sophia had called me back. Her mobile had been switched off when I’d tried earlier, just before Cassie, so I’d relayed everything to her too. I hadn’t told Melody. She had too much on her own plate to be loaded with my problems.
In a way, I was glad I’d only told two people. Now in the cold light of day, I realised that reliving the whole nightmare by going over and over it again wasn’t going to help or change anything. I just had to move on and try and get on with my life. I’d done it before, so I’d have to do it again.
‘Really?’
‘Yeah. Of course, the situation isn’t ideal, but there’s no point crying over spilt milk. What’s done is done. We had a nice time together, so I just have to put it down to experience and move on. It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.’
‘Got any more clichés you’d like to add?’ Cassie rolled her eyes.
‘What?’
‘You’re acting like a robot. Spouting all that nonsense you’d find in some sort of self-help break-up recovery book. You’ve just found out that the love of your life is moving to another country and didn’t tell you. Anyone would find that news devastating. You don’t have to act sensible all of the time. You are allowed to feel emotions, you know: hurt, anger, frustration and whatever. You didn’t do anything wrong.’
‘I did. I should have known better. I should have trusted my gut and not got involved in the first place.’
‘Yeah? So what was your gut feeling when you and Mike went for a walk on the South Bank just after the course started? Or when you spent your evenings here together on the sofa or when you were enjoying the limbo dancing at that pop-up beach bar? Was your gut telling you your feelings were wrong then too?’
Dammit. Cassie spoke a lot of sense, which was annoying. Overall, everything had felt so right. Like we were meant to be. But clearly that was because I had been thinking with my heart and my hormones. Not my head.
‘That’s irrelevant. What’s important now is that Mike is leaving. It doesn’t matter how I felt when we were together. We can’t be anymore. He lied to me. He made me fall in love with him all over again when he knew he was leaving. And he’s moving to another country. Those are the facts. It’s over.’
Saying those words out loud cut like a knife. Mike really was leaving. I tried my best to put on a brave face, but inside I was crumbling. Cassie was my younger cousin. She looked up to me. I couldn’t let her see me like some blubbering mess. I had to be strong.
The truth was, my brain felt like it was on a high-powered spin cycle with so many thoughts racing around and around at once. No matter how much I went over it all, I still couldn’t understand how he could do that to me. He must have known how hurt I would be, and still he didn’t care.
‘I’m not saying that Mike isn’t a dick for not telling you, but there must be a reason why. Don’t you think you should at least hear him out?’
‘I’ve thought about it, but no. Either way, it changes nothing. Even if he had the most rational and logical reason, which I doubt, it doesn’t change the fact that he’s accepted a job abroad. I’m not going to be the one to hold him back. He’s a free spirit. Always has been, always will be.’
The more I thought about it, the more I realised the significance of things he’d said to me. For example, about how important it was for us to enjoy the moment. And then there was that time where he’d said he didn’t know how long we’d be together and to make the most of it. He hadn’t just been thinking about his friends. He’d known it was because he’d be leaving. The signs had been there, but I’d completely missed them.
‘The fact is,’ I continued, ‘unlike Mike, I’m looking to settle down. We’re just not compatible. It wouldn’t work. In a way, he did me a favour. At least things ended before we got even deeper. It’s for the best. Anyway, I’m done talking about this.’ I opened up the container and saw that it was Cassie’s home-made chicken stir-fry, which was always delicious. ‘This looks amazing, thank you. Let’s eat.’