Before I could even reply, Justin left.. I thought that was strange. Next thing I saw, whilst looking for Angela again, was her on the sofa kissing some guy.
Wow, this girl did like to get around.
Furthermore they were practically having sex on the sofa.
Someone shouted go get a room. I saw him grab her and I think they were on their way to do just that.
Where is Justin? I kept asking myself.
Thirty minutes later I saw him. Spotted him talking in a corner to Michael. I went up and gave him a kiss and said, ‘Lets go home.’ It was strange, because for some reason he smelt of sex. I know that smell on him too well. He spends most of that time with the scent that I do not recall his natural scent.
Justin and I went home and had our first official fight. ‘I cannot take this anymore, I want us to be more than roommates it has been nearly 3 years.
We have lived together for nearly 3 and that was never the plan just to be roommates forever.’ In his defense, he claims he is too tired drunk and horny for having this discussion. Then, he went to the bedroom and passed out on the bed.
They went for a weekend in Ireland for the stag do for Michael , all organised by Justin. He was so proud of his organisational skills. I was not sure what made him prouder, his organisational skills, or the whole idea of a week of me not nagging him into marriage. I think now it was the latter.
Things had severely changed between us. He seemed to spend a lot of nights out. Always, coming back smelling of sex. I was beginning to get more suspicious that he was spending time with his ex. When I confronted him, he would simply say, ‘You are paranoid.
We have sex before I go out, so obviously you are smelling yourself!’
Partially true, maybe I smelt myself.
Because I did not know my own scent, at times it made perfect sense, and other times it sounded damn right stupid.
‘What do you want? Are you looking to marry him because you live with him or simply because he is the love of your life and you are wanting full commitment from him?’ Michelle asked on our weekly girls night out. I said, ‘I want full commitment from him because I love him, and I thought that was the reason we moved in together: to go to the next stage. I have never loved someone the way I love him.’
‘Really!’ all the girls claimed at the same time. ‘We remember us having this same conversation when you were talking about marrying Kevin.’ ‘Kevin, was different, and in the end, we were only together for the sake of it,’ I claimed.
‘Go tell poor Kevin that!’ shouted Michelle. ‘The man cried for weeks when you left. We all know that, because he called all of us to get you to change your mind.’ Tracey said, ‘ One day, he was at my work place on his knees; it was the most embarrassing thing in the world. I opened the office door because I was told he was outside my office, and there he was on his knees, begging me to talk to you. Everyone in the office thought he was proposing to me, and was telling me to go say yes!’
‘None of you told me this!’ I said. ‘I never knew.’ ‘How could we have told you this? You would have felt guilty.
You are our friend. But we felt for Kevin. You dumped him cold and hard.
What did you do? You bought a flat, never told him. Waited till he went to work, packed all your things, then sent him an email saying I do not live at that address anymore!’
‘We did not agree with your method or what you did, but we are your best and closest friends. So we just listened to the story, and were disgusted. But what could we say. The deed had already been done and that was the end of that!’
On that note, I did not feel like going out.
I went back to the flat, and cried myself to sleep. I really was my own worse enemy.
Next thing on the agenda was Michael’s wedding. Justin looked good; everyone said he would make a goodlooking groom. His reply, ‘Goodlooking groom, but not a good-looking husband!’
Everyone laughed every time he said it, but not me. As the wedding progressed, I kept looking at him, to see if there was a glimpse of yearning to be in that same spot. He just looked like the proud best man and he was still suffering from coming back from Ireland. Strangely enough, while everyone seemed to be OK when they came back, he looked worse than the groom did. I did ask what he got up to, and his reply was always the same ‘What happened in Ireland stays in Ireland! There is no need for you to worry your pretty head about what could or has occurred in Ireland.’
This meant only one thing. He had cheated, and he did not want to admit it.
It dawned on me it was not the first time.
My mind cast back to the club. His ex on the sofa and the fact that she was snogging a guy who had a shirt exactly the same as his. And he was gone for what felt like thirty minutes, but I never checked my watch to find out exactly the length of time he was actually gone.
Furthermore, I could not even know what the difference was between ten minutes and thirty minutes.
Then, came the reception. Everyone was happy and laughing and
