Ashley Gets Dumped

"I don't believe it, the fucking bitch, the things I did for her. The time I invested into that relationship. What did I do, what didn't I do? I love her." I cry into the arms of my friend Charlie.

"I know, I know." She strokes my head, hugging me close. "It's her loss, her problem. It'll be OK". She tells me.

I don't believe her. My mind is moving at 100 miles an hour as I'm trying to work out what I could have done differently. I can't think of anything, well nothing rational anyway.

Opening my eyes I see that I've soaked Charlie's top with tears, snot and my thick gloopy drool. I sit back and stare at it, "I'm sorry, I've made a mess of your shirt." I cry.

"Don't worry." Charlie sniggers. "Do you want to stay with me tonight?" She asks.

I nod, I can't bear to go back to my flat, not alone. I feel raw, suffering from intense grief. If I see anything of hers I'd break down.

Two years I'd been with her. We'd moved in together six months ago. I thought that I'd found my soul mate and that I was settling down with her, the love of my life, or so I thought.

Tonight, we'd donned our nicest outfits for date night, to sit across a table together and talk. I usually enjoyed date night, spending any time with her was magic to me.

She sat there, opposite me, I adored her in her black suit and white blouse. I admired her short, pixie-cut blonde hair. She was beautiful. We'd both agreed not to have dessert, but strangely she asked for two coffees. I don't drink coffee after 5 pm, I only know her to have coffee in the mornings before work, even then it's a milky one.

She'd reached across the table and held my hand. I smiled, her soft hand stroking mine. I looked into her sparkly eyes, I cherished them. I felt full of love and devotion for her.

When we were out she always offered for me to sit with my back to the wall, with a view of the room, she said it was so she could concentrate on me and me alone, enabling me to look around. I didn't want to look at anything but her. It's things like that that I loved about her. It's different tonight, we're sitting on the wrong sides of the table. I thought it strange when we were seated.

I look at her hand stroking mine, I didn't like her biting her nails, I've told her off all of the time for doing it too. I offered to manicure them, so she could have pretty hands like mine. I even offered to paint her nails so that we could have the same matching colours.

For a moment there was a silence, I didn't mind, I was content just sitting there with her, my love. But that's when she said it, those dreaded words.

"We need to talk, I've got something to say." She said, her face serious. At first, I thought it was going to be something silly. "Go on." I giggled.

She pulled her hand back and sat straight. "It's not working out. I'm going back to my parents tonight." She sat there half smiling, half crying. Her emotions sitting on the fence as she broke the news.

"I'm sorry, what?" I replied. Tears ran down my face quickly spurting from my eyes. I started to cry before my brain had processed what it had been told. I was hoping she'd say 'Jokes!' But she didn't. She got the waiter's eye and said "Bill, please."

"What, why?" Words stutter out of my mouth, as I'm wanting an explanation.

"It's not you, it's me." She says completely deadpan.

I break from crying to laugh at her corny response.

"It's not working, you're... I can't help how I feel." She looks at the table and turning away looks for the waiter, avoiding looking at me.

I don't want the waiter here, I want answers. "I'll change, what do you want me to do?" I can't think of what I can change, but I'll do what I can.

"You can't change, you won't... you're you, you're..." She looks at me, but I don't understand.

"Are you seeing someone else?" I panic.

"No!" She squeals out immediately, and she looks away, for the waiter again.

"You are, who is it?" I start to get louder. I feel my cheeks burn.

"Keep your voice down. You're embarrassing me." She snaps and looks uncomfortable.

The waiter comes over and places a small black tray in front of her, the itemised bill and a business card sitting clipped to the top of it. "Your bill." He says before he turns and walks away.

She glances at it, before getting her card out. "My treat." She says. She suddenly looks embarrassed.

"Nice fucking treat this is. My treat, what the actual fuck." I shout. People turn to look, if they weren't already watching this car crash of a break-up take place, then they are now. Some people chuckle, some whisper and some pretend they haven't noticed.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean that. It came out wrong." She looks apologetically at me.

I grab my wine glass and throw the small mouthful of what's left at her before getting up and taking my jacket from the back of the chair, I snatch my purse and phone from the table.

"Classy, that's just what I'd expect from you." She fires back at me, her bitter anger spills out, her hair is only just wet and she wipes a drop of wine from her eye. Her tone changes, "Don't leave like this." She suddenly says. "Please."

I don't spare her a glance as I run out of the restaurant. I walk around the corner, drop to a crouch and burst into tears. I then called Charlie and asked her if I could go around hers, and now here I am.

I'm wearing a pair of her oversized shorts and a baggy T-shirt and being spooned by Charlie in her bed, lying there silently together, me appreciating her comfort.

In the morning I wake, and Charlie gets up and gets ready for work. I text my boss and tell him I won't be in today. I need to get back to the flat.

I thank Charlie who tells me I can stay for as long as I need. I tell her I'll be in touch later and get dressed and head back to mine.

It's been three weeks since she left me, my girlfriend, or rather ex-girlfriend, it's a Saturday. I'm barefoot, with no make-up and in grey tracksuit bottoms and a plain white T-shirt. I'm waiting for her to come and collect her things. I've boxed them up as per her emailed instructions, and I've put framed selfies and shared keepsakes in them, at the top, so she'll see them straight away.

Hopefully, her heartstrings will be pulled and she'll come to her senses. I'm wearing sexy lingerie under my clothes, I'll seduce her and offer myself to her. I'll have her eating out of the palm of my hand, or my pussy, when she sees the pictures of us.

The doorbell sounds and I buzz her up. I stand with my back to the door looking out of the window as she enters.

"You're here then." She greets me. "My email explicitly told you to be out?"

I turn and face her. "Hey," I answer. "I know, but I wanted to see you. Want a drink? Maybe we can talk." I hope we can. She looks beautiful. She looks tall, even though she's not. She's shorter than me wearing tight jeans, trainers and a grey corduroy shirt. Her short hair is scruffy and sexy.

"No. I'm fine. You're pathetic, you are... Anyway, I have a friend waiting in the car downstairs." She looks at the boxes and takes out the framed pictures of us both. I watch her, readying myself for her to come over and hug me, to apologise. I notice her hands, her nails look nicer, it looks like she's stopped biting them and they're growing. I'm surprised by this.

She stares at one of the pictures. "We look happy," I say. We looked happy, it's the one from our first holiday abroad together in Spain. We're on a beach, our sunnies crowning our heads, and broad, happy smiles beaming up from the image. "That bloody holiday. You paid for it, I should have finished with you then, but everything snowballed." She frowns and discards them on the floor next to the box.

"I'm sorry what did you say?" I ask, my heart sinks, it feels as though it's going to drop through me. I look at her as my eyes well, everything seems blurry from my pooling tears.

"You're clingy, you're needy and fucking hell you're annoying. You're good for one thing, and even then there are girls better at it than you. You make my skin crawl." She doesn't look at me as she picks the box up. My heart breaks, but I try to control my tears and emotions.

"I need to talk to you about the rent, I can't afford it on my own. Your names on the lease too." I tell her.

"You'll have to sort that out, I can't afford two rents. Find a lodger for the last couple of months maybe?" She replies and leaves the flat with her first box.

I start feeling anxious and upset as I pace around the lounge waiting for her to return. I'm also hurting as I process what she's just said. I hear her run back up the stairs and burst through the door for the next box.

"I thought you were staying with your mum and dad?" I ask.

She snorts. "Did you. Err. Oh, no. God, you're fucking thick. No, I moved in with someone else. You need to move on too." She picks up the second box. "Olivia is nice, very attractive. She's independent, and I don't have to worry about how I look, or how I talk. She's not a pretentious princess."

I've never known her to be so horrible to me, she used to be kind and considerate. I run to the bedroom and jump onto the bed and wail into my pillow. A little while later there's a knock on the bedroom door as she enters.

"I've left my key on the side. I don't suppose we'll see each other again, thank fuck. Two years wasted with you, two years I won't get back. Look at you crying, fucking pathetic. Good luck." She pauses to look at me.

"A lodger, this is a single bedroom flat," I say as I look at her. She shrugs, "Not my problem, you spoiled, entitled bitch." She smirks at me as she walks off. My head drops back into the pillow as I sob uncontrollably.

It's been three months since she picked up her boxes and I've now moved into Charlie's. Her flatmate had moved out and I have taken her room. The rent is more affordable and it's a bonus to share with a friend.

Charlie has patiently nursed me back to my old self, she looked after me and helped me get my confidence back.

The flats pretty decent, a bit small, but it's clean and tidy. We spend a lot of our free time drinking in the pub across the road or enjoying a bottle or two of wine after work now and again.

I've also noticed how I catch her looking at me, not staring but glancing. She smiles at me when our eyes meet before she looks away. I hadn't noticed her do that before.

We've known each other for a good while after we made friends at university and we both moved to London for work. We haven't flat shared before, but we lived in the same flat in the halls during our first year, but that doesn't count.

Charlie's boyfriend visits every other weekend from Middlesbrough, I know him from university too, but he moved back home after he graduated, and he always tries to persuade Charlie to move up there with him, but she doesn't want to.

"I've got a date, another date on Friday, Charlie," I say excitedly. She's washing up and I'm standing leaning against the kitchen counter surfing on my phone.

"Have you?" She scrubs a pan with a Brillo pad whilst wearing pink marigolds. She cooked tonight, it was just edible for the burnt offerings she made.

"Yeah. I hope she's better than the last one." I say. I'm unsuccessfully Facebook stalking my ex, but she's blocked me since our split and I can't see what she's doing because of her privacy settings. "This will be date number three for me, I hope it's more successful than the previous two women I've met."

"Where are you both going?" Charlie asks, concentrating on the stubborn burnt food at the bottom of the pan.

"I've not decided yet." I'm now scrolling through unimportant emails.

Charlie gives up on the pan and leaves it soaking in the sink. She pings her marigolds off and dumps them on the draining board. It's a few seconds before I've realised that she's left me standing in the kitchen. I go to the lounge where she is lying on the sofa.

I sit in the armchair. "What's wrong with you?" I ask.

"Nothing." Charlie covers her face with her arm. I look at her, she's tall lying there barefoot. Being a big girl, her tits are large, her waist small and her bum is wide with thick thighs. Her skin is tanned, she's pretty, even prettier with her make-up on. Her nails are polished red on her fingers and toes. Her long brunette hair is still damp from her earlier shower, though she's pulled it back into a ponytail and she's wearing bright orange shorts and a T-shirt.

I sit for a moment but get bored. She seems sulky, so I decide to go to my room to do a bit of tidying and put some music on. I hear Charlie's door slam loudly and I continue with what I'm doing.

It's a few days later and I'm getting ready for my date. I'm wearing big black suede boots that come to above my knee. My grey dress has a plunging neckline showing off my big natural cleavage, and my long blond straight hair is brushed and falls nicely down my back and over my shoulders. The hem of my dress sits upper mid-thigh, I flash my undies and lots of upper leg.

I check my makeup, it's subtle, my light green eyes stand out and my features are delicate, angular, soft and feminine. I'm wearing a non-matching comfy thong and bra set as I'm not planning on getting laid tonight. I'm a three-date girl. You have to treat me like the Queen I am, and I will dedicate myself to you, wholly. I'm a proper whore for the right girl and I'm looking for a friend and a soulmate. You have to be worth it to pass my tests to get to date three. Not many girls get past date one. I like long relationships, I don't particularly like dating, and I settle down with girls quickly.

The girl I'm meeting is not my usual type. I like tomboys, nice shirts and trousers, smart looking and smelling nice. I spray a little perfume on and go to the kitchen for a glass of water.

Charlie is in the kitchen eating buttered toasted crumpets, there are three on her plate and she has a mug of tea. As soon as I enter, her eyes widen as she smiles at me. She quickly takes a bite of a crumpet and then licks melted butter from her finger and thumb, between chewing.

"Not eating dinner tonight?" I ask grabbing a tumbler from the cupboard.

She chews a little more and then swallows. "No, not tonight. I'm not too hungry. But look at you though. Gorgeous!"

I fill my glass from the tap. "Thank you," I reply. I drink draining it quickly and play with the glass in my hands.

She bites some more from the crumpet. Half munching on the soft, buttery snack, watching me "She's a lucky girl."

"We'll see. She'd better not talk about her ex, or sit looking at her phone during the date." I say putting my glass by the sink. "I've gone for a girly girl this date. I just want a nice evening topped off with a kiss and a cuddle."

She smiles at me, holding her hands tightly around her tea. "A Girly girl. What's that then?"

"I don't know, a bit more femme, a bit more... like me I think," I reply walking toward the kitchen door.

She takes her plate and follows me. "Like me? I'll cuddle you, you don't even need to ask."

I don't look at her as I grab my leather bomber jacket from the coat hooks next to the door. "Yeah, like you." I look at her, and she smiles again and turns to the lounge. "Don't wait up," I say.

"I won't." She shouts back.

I leave the house and head for the tube. I need to get to Brixton.

The restaurant is loud, I'm sitting opposite my date. I let her sit facing the room. I watch and examine her. She's sweet, her hair is longer than shoulder length, it's naturally dark and straight, and she has quite a bit of blonde running through it. Her eyes are dark and narrow, her nose is pronounced but small, her mouth is small, her lips full, and her chin is delicate. She's bigger than her profile pictures made her out to be. She's very pretty, her make-up is pale, and greys and silvers are used in her eye shadow.

It's been a pleasant evening. I knew she was younger than me, by five years, but her nerves and language gave it away too. It's also me talking about my ex and I've had to stop myself from talking a few times now. We've talked about politics, films and holidays. She's new to the scene, she wants to take things slow and wait for the right girl. That suits me.

I notice her flirting with me, and she takes the opportunity to touch and hold my hand. I like it, I like her attempts for the little contacts, but they are shy and apprehensive.

After our meal, we leave. She's asked to go on for a drink but I decline and head to the station. She walks with me and stops for a sweet kiss by the entrance. "Are you sure I can't persuade you?" She asks. I smile back at her taking her in. I'm going to play this cool. She's cute.

"I'd like to see you again." She smiles at me, she twists and turns on her feet slightly as she sways holding her purse in her hands in front of her. Her blue flower print dress is of light fabric, its long, almost ankle length, but I can see her curves, and her feet look pretty in her flat sandals.

"I bet you would." I wink at her and use my Oyster to get through the barriers. I don't look back, but I sense her standing there watching me, waiting for me to turn and wave. I head home and I smile. "I'm back in the game," I whisper to myself.

It's just after 11 pm, and I'm quietly letting myself into the flat. I hear the TV on and go to the lounge.

Charlie sits up and greets me with a big smile. "Did sparks fly?" She asks eagerly.

I sit down to unzip my boots. "I'm not sure I'd say sparks flew." One of the zips has got stuck and I try to ease it down my leg. I swear under my breath, they weren't cheap. "She was very nice. She's 21, but a young 21-year-old."

"Uh-huh. Are you seeing her again?" Charlie stares at me intently, she watches me try to fix the zip, and she stares at me and my legs.

"I'm playing it cool, she wanted the night to carry on, but I declined. I'll call her Sunday, but I think she'll call me tomorrow." I grin as the zip suddenly comes loose and I slide my legs and feet out of my boots. I take my white Nike socks off. "Fancy a wine?" I offer. I see Charlie look at my toes, and the white I'd painted them. They feel a little sweaty and I hope they don't smell.

"If you are, why not?" She grins at me as I go to the kitchen for a bottle and glasses.

We drink it and then open the vodka, and talk for hours. She about her boyfriend, she suggests that she might finish with him to find someone in London. She says she likes someone, but won't let on who. I ask lots of questions but I keep guessing wrong.

She tells me the person she likes doesn't know, and that sometimes they don't even notice she's in the room. I tell her that they aren't worth it, but if she does like them she needs to tell them how she feels.

We drink, we talk and listen to Spotify and we dance the drunker we get. I believe Charlie is getting a little more than drunk as she is more touchy-feely than usual. I jokingly ask if she's flirting with me and she laughs it off.

At 3 am we decide to hit the hay. Before we go to bed we hug. Her hug is close, intimate and comforting. She's had too much to drink and I laugh and gently push her away encouraging her to get to bed as head to my room.

It's Monday and I'm dressed for work toasting bread and making coffee. Charlie is making hers too. "I can't believe I've not heard from Friday's date," I say, vexing a little.

"Who's playing it cool now." Charlie answers chuckling.

"I thought it went well. I can't believe she's not got back to me." I complain.

"She's saying the same to her flatmate. I bet you!" Charlie grabs her toast. She kisses my cheek and leaves.

"Bye. I love you." I shout after her.

Charlie stops, turns and looks at me.

"What?" I ask her buttering my toast, I've not registered what I've said.

She shrugs and continues. I smile to myself as I watch her leave as I think about Friday's date. She turns to look at me again, and she opens the door and exits. She's behaving oddly recently.