Since I found out about his little rendezvous over two weeks ago, I’ve been avoiding him like the plague, taking more shifts at work and planning my escape back home. Sure, I might have had a slight slip-up and slept with him the other night after an entire bottle of whiskey, but what can I say, I was so blind drunk it could have been anyone. Seeing his smug face the next morning was the stark wake-up I needed to get my ass into gear. I knew instantly I had to get out this week.
I smile at him, and it’s completely calculated and probably slightly deranged, but that’s the point.
“Lottie?” He squints at me before finally looking around the room. When he spots the missing TV, I can see the wheels churning in his mind. Beck knows how I am—hell, we’ve been together over two years. That’s why I’m so shocked he didn’t expect me to retaliate earlier. I live by extreme emotions and I’m highly loyal, to the point of blindness clearly, but this past week has also taught me I’m highly reactive too. Hence all his sold electronics.
“Lottie, what the fuck did you do?” he yells, spit flying out of his mouth.
I unhook my legs, the studs on my boots clicking together. Standing tall, I look him directly in the eye.
“Well, Beck, I sold them.”
His face distorts, crimson overtaking it in patches. “What do you mean you sold them?”
“Let’s just call them payment for emotional damages.” I lift my suitcase handle up, beginning my retreat from the living room, from this life.
Beck pulls at the strands of his hair, looking around as if everything might somehow reappear.
“You crazy fucking bitch!” he screams in my face as I walk by him. I stay neutral, not responding his reaction, which only furthers his anger.
“What, you’re pissed I cheated on you? And so you fucking sell my shit. Wow, so fucking mature, Lottie.”
“Goodbye, Beck,” I tell him, not giving in to the plethora of swear words I want to hurl at him. I already did that when I found out. You see, I’ve never been one to contain my anger well; my dad always called me a firecracker for a reason. But today feels different. Selling the stuff we got together when we moved here, the stuff I didn’t want to waste thousands of pounds on but he insisted on having, the stuff that because I loved him, I gave in about… Selling all that shit was liberating, if I’m being honest.
“You better get it back, Lottie. I fucking mean it!”
He reaches out to grab me, but I shake his hand off. Beck is a lot of things, an arsehole being the first, but I know he wouldn’t get violent with me. I just don’t want him near me because his touch repulses me.
I walk out of the flat, feeling overly pleased with myself as I hear Beck screaming in the flat about his precious belongings. Sure, some could say this is cold, illegal even, but I consider it compensation for how epically he’s fucked up my life over the past six months, and for the two extra years of my time he wasted.
“Fuck you, Beck!” I yell out merrily, voice filled with cheer as I spot the cab out front, ready to take me back home to London.
I guess it’s true what they say: revenge is a dish best served cold.
I pace around my Notting Hill flat, looking for anything to keep me occupied until it’s time for me to pick up Emilia at her place. The blank cream walls practically scream for some color, but since I’ve been back, the only thing I’ve been able to do is trash the floors with my mess of clothes. I guess most people would tidy up, considering it looks like a small grenade exploded in my bedroom, but I can’t be fucked. Why clean all that mess up if I’m just going to destroy it again tomorrow? I guess that’s probably the wrong way to look at things, but oh well.
I laugh thinking about what Stana, my cousin, would think of the way I’ve left the place in less than a month since I’ve been back. I’ve had this apartment for three years, and not once was it as clean and sparkling as it was when she moved in at the beginning of the year. But then again, I wasn’t here to mess it up.
How so much has changed in seven months.
Relationships ended, some started, new friendships, some old.
It’s been a roller coaster, that’s for damn sure. When I left this very apartment and moved with my then-boyfriend, Beck, to Edinburgh, I never thought I’d end up right back here in less than a year. I also never expected the lad I thought was my future to have been cheating on me for the last year of our relationship.
But I guess that’s life, isn’t it? I also never thought I’d convince Stana to leave her life back in LA and move to London, but here I am, wrong again. The girl packed up in January and came to London, then took care of my flat for me while I was away—that is, until six weeks ago forces back in LA pulled her in again, leading her back there.
But tonight, she’s finally coming home. Emilia, Stana’s first friend in London and the sister of Stana’s boyfriend, Alistair, is helping me pick up Stana in less than an hour. To say I’m excited is the world’s biggest understatement. Plus, we may or may not have some surprises for Stana up our sleeves.
It’s been months since I’ve seen the girl, and well, I’ve managed to understand why she’s so desperate to get back here. The friends Stana made while I was in Edinburgh have so graciously welcomed me into the fold after everything in my life went south.
So, despite the horrific year filled with the world’s shittiest boyfriend and a traumatic life
