Love Offline Page 3

  As I scrolled past a photo of another celeb promoting a dodgy-sounding slimming powder which she claimed had helped her get back into shape weeks after having her baby, I froze.

  It was a post from Eric.

  A photo of him kissing Nicole with the sun setting behind them.

  My stomach sank.

  I knew I should just log off there and then, but I couldn’t help myself. I read the caption:

  My darling Nicole: I love you so very much. My life began the day I met you. Before I was existing in darkness and then you came along and lit up my life. I finally feel like I’m living. Like I’m truly alive. Life with you is never dull or predictable. Every day with you is exciting. A new adventure. I can’t wait to see where this next chapter takes us. Thank you for agreeing to be my wife. I’m looking forward to spending the rest of our lives together. Always. Eric x

  #truelove #engaged #marriage #fiancee #bridetobe #couplegoals #happiness

  * * *

  I’d thought my heart was crushed before with the proposal post, but reading this felt even worse. It was like a hundred knives had been plunged into my heart, then twisted around slowly.

  How could he? He’d never said anything remotely romantic to me and yet here he was. Gushing. Telling the whole world how much he loved her.

  Before Nicole he was living in darkness?

  So he found being with me depressing?

  Life with her was never dull or predictable?

  Surely he knew I still followed him. How could he be so cruel? Humiliate me so publicly?

  What a bastard.

  I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised. ‘Don’t be such a bore!’ was what Eric used to say every time we were out and I asked if we could go home—even when we’d been somewhere for hours. Or he’d say it whenever I felt like a relaxed evening on the sofa and he wanted to go to one of those horrible bars in the West End.

  If we ever did something I enjoyed for a change, like going to an intimate gig or visiting an art gallery, then I’d have been more enthusiastic. But that never happened. I just didn’t see the point of going to his flashy places. The drinks were overpriced and it was always too noisy to have a conversation. It seemed like everyone just went there to pose, be seen and take photos for the ’gram. I suppose that was all those bars were good for, really. For me anyway. I always felt so out of place. The women there were all super groomed and wore slinky dresses. If I tried to squeeze even one of my bum cheeks into that kind of outfit, it would rip instantly. I just wasn’t one of those glamour-puss girls. That’s probably why he preferred Nicole. Because of her young, firm, model physique and glossy hair.

  I read the caption again.

  Every day with you is exciting. A new adventure.

  I sighed. He was probably right. I’d seen her Instagram page. I thought Eric went to lots of swanky places, but Nicole was always going to different bars, clubs, and parties, either with a massive circle of friends or with Eric.

  Every weekend she posted photos of their romantic brunches—normally somewhere with a view of the Thames or the London skyline. How could I compete with that? All I ever had for breakfast was a blueberry muffin and a latte. Hardly Insta-worthy. Apart from hanging out at Chloe’s, the only other place I went was to Sainsbury’s Local if I’d missed something off my online weekly shopping order and needed it urgently. And let’s face it: posting a photo of a can of baked beans or a loaf of bread wasn’t going to make Eric see the error of his ways.

  I flopped on the bed.

  What am I doing with my life?

  It had been ages since Eric and I had broken up, and whilst he’d been busy proposing to Nicole and having an amazing time with her, going out every night, I’d been sitting here like some saddo, stalking his Instagram page and hoping he’d come back to me. Watching everyone else’s exciting lives whilst I sat inside. Talking to guys on dating apps, but never meeting them because I was terrified of getting hurt again.

  There must be more to life than this.

  This couldn’t be it for me? Could it? I bloody hoped not.

  I needed to do something. Otherwise it would be.

  Chloe had always said she’d help me to get back out there again, but I still wasn’t sure. That two-month challenge thing sounded scary. And once I started, there would be no going back.

  I looked at the post, again. Eighty-six likes and thirty-two comments. Jeez. I scrolled through them.

  @IamMarissa123UKX Such a beautiful couple! You two are made for each other.

  * * *

  What a two-faced cow. Marissa had always said Eric and I were made for each other.

  Look at them all. Fawning over Eric and Nicole like they were the world’s hottest celebrity couple. It was like I’d never even existed.

  I should have logged off, as every second I spent online made me feel even worse. But before I knew it, I had refreshed my feed again, and just as I did, a new photo popped up.

  It was another post from Eric. Sitting in what looked like a fancy train carriage, grinning with Nicole. I read the caption:

  Dinner on the Eurostar! Oui! My beautiful fiancée and I are off to Paris for an impromptu adventure. Just because…We just LOVE being spontaneous. We’ll be sure to post lots of photos of our exciting trip. Stay tuned!

  #Livingourbestlives #happycouples #couplegoals #madlyinlove #engaged #newlyengaged #love #adventures #Paris #Romance #Romantic #exciting

  * * *

  Aaargghh!

  That’s it.

  I couldn’t keep torturing myself. I couldn’t subject myself to more lovey-dovey posts, pictures of them snogging in front of the Eiffel Tower, drinking champagne in bed from each other’s glasses and God knows what else.

  Sod it.

  I clicked the button to unfollow him, then scrolled through my list and unfollowed each and every person I could find who was linked to Eric.

  Done.

  Eric might be looking forward to his ‘new adventures’ with Nicole, but that didn’t mean I needed to sit here and watch from the front row.

  And what was with harping on about how exciting and spontaneous their lives were? Talk about sticking the knife in. It wasn’t like I hadn’t ever done things off the cuff before. Maybe not so much these days, but before I met Eric I wasn’t dull. Or predictable. And I wasn’t boring. I wasn’t! Okay, I might seem that way right now, but I can be fun. If I wanted to. And I do. I wanted to enjoy my life. I’d wasted enough of it with Eric, and I didn’t intend to waste another second.

  I swiped up to close Instagram and tabbed to favourites in my phone contacts.

  ‘Evening, Em.’

  ‘Hey, Chloe…you know you said you’d help me get out more? Meet new people? Make new friends? Does the offer still stand?’

  ‘Absolutely!’

  ‘Well, I’d like to do it. I’m petrified. Totally shitting myself, but you’re right. It might be good for me. I want to do it. I need to do it. To at least try…’

  ‘That’s brilliant news! Don’t worry. I’ll arrange everything. Meet me at your coffee shop tomorrow at noon and I’ll talk you through what I have in mind.’

  ‘Okay, cool. Thanks.’

  I ended the call and exhaled.

  Boring? Dull? Predictable? Not anymore.

  I’ll show you, Eric.

  The exciting, fun-seeking Emily is making a comeback. And you’re going to be sorry you ever left her.

  Chapter Five

  What an earth was I thinking?

  I was on my way to the coffee shop to discuss Chloe’s ‘two months to transform your life’ challenge and I couldn’t help but think I’d been a little hasty.

  I know I was upset about Eric’s proposal and all his gushy posts last night, which made me snap out of my delusional bubble and finally see that it really was time to move on. And I know that got me all fired up about getting myself out there and starting to live my life properly. But that flash of optimism had disappeared and now I was filled with doubts. Let’s get real
: did I really think I could go from being a hermit to suddenly turning myself into some sort of social butterfly in two months?

  Come on.

  I mean, of course I’d like to believe that I could become more outgoing. But if it really was that easy to meet new people, change your life and bag a decent boyfriend, then everyone would have an entourage of hundreds of friends and we’d all be loved up.

  I know Chloe meant well, but sometimes when you’ve been in a relationship for a while, it’s easy to forget how hard it is being thrust back onto the single front line. Especially when one minute you thought everything in your world was hunky-dory, and the next, you were arriving home early from a meeting and hearing loud noises coming from your bedroom, only to open the door to see some twenty-something’s toned bottom bouncing up and down on top of your boyfriend as he fondled her big pert breasts and groaned that she felt “so good”.

  Ugh! Just picturing it made me feel like someone had taken a chainsaw to my heart all over again. If I thought about it now, I’d fall back into a hole of darkness. No. Can’t do that. I’ve got to get over him. Deep breath.

  Like I was saying, when you’re in a relationship, you can forget how hard it was to find that special someone. I certainly did. It took a couple of months of being single again to realise that finding someone that you were attracted to and had a connection with wasn’t going to be a walk in the park. Particularly when you were in your mid-thirties and so many of the ‘good guys’ were already coupled up.

  I reckon Chloe was thinking that just because she happened to meet Brian at a party all those years ago and fall madly in love, I could easily find someone in a real-life setting now too. But things were different these days. Times had changed. And anyway, I wasn’t like her. I was an introvert.

  Ever since we’d met in the canteen at uni when I was in my first year of studying art and design and she was in her final year of her sociology degree, Chloe had always been super confident and bubbly. Put her in a room full of strangers and ten minutes later she’d know everyone’s middle name, their date of birth, what brand of soap powder they used and where they bought their underwear. She was just a natural people magnet.

  I, on the other hand, was the complete opposite, and my memory was rubbish too, which wasn’t ideal for networking. Someone could tell me their name five times and I would still forget it in seconds.

  Don’t get me wrong. Eventually, if I relaxed a little and found that we had a few things in common, I’d be okay. I could hold a conversation. I didn’t mind going out and socialising if it was one-on-one or with a small group of people I knew. If I felt comfortable with them, I could even talk for hours. It was mainly the initial bit that I found tricky. You know, breaking the ice. Having the courage to go up and speak to strangers, then think of an ‘opening line’ to get their attention and make them think I was interesting. Not to mention the awkwardness of making small talk. It was hard. And don’t even get me started on approaching a man in a romantic sense. The thought of attempting to chat up a guy I fancied was enough to make me break out in a cold sweat.

  I’d met all my past boyfriends via introductions from friends in a familiar group setting, so it had never been that scary blind date scenario. But with literally everyone I knew now being part of a couple or married, those kind of relationship referrals had become extinct along with the Walkman and Blockbuster video stores.

  That was why I preferred to dip in and out of the apps just to chat to my matches. It kept me company during the evenings and was low-risk. If I didn’t meet them, I wouldn’t be disappointed. And if I stayed single, then I wouldn’t have to worry about being cheated on again.

  So, yeah. Given the fact that I was shy around strangers, scared of rejection and terrified about getting hurt, agreeing to a challenge which involved meeting new people, trying to make new friends and attempting to find a boyfriend who would probably break my heart again sounded like the worst idea ever. Which was another reason why I didn’t know why I was now stepping through the doors of Cuppa, the coffee shop at the end of my road, for what Chloe was calling a ‘project briefing’. Crazy didn’t even begin to cover it…

  It was busy in here today. Lots of couples at the tables for two, and a few families. I looked around, trying to spot Chloe. I loved the interior of this place. It fused rustic original wooden flooring and exposed brick walls with modern shiny white tables and chairs. They had lightbulbs hanging from suspended yellow string over the bright yellow counter, quirky artwork on the walls and tall white bookcases filled with a selection of cookery and food-related books available to buy.

  There she was. I spotted Chloe in the comfy brown leather sofa in the corner. The sofas were one of my favourite things about Cuppa. There were only two, so you were never guaranteed to get one, but when you were lucky enough, they were so lovely to sit in. Like resting your bottom on a soft fluffy cloud. By far the best seats in the house.

  ‘You’re here!’ said Chloe excitedly as she stood up to greet me.

  Chloe was wearing a plum dress which nipped her in at the waist with a hemline below the knee. I recognised it as one of her favourite finds from the charity shop, which was where she bought most of her clothes.

  ‘Reluctantly,’ I said, giving her a warm hug. ‘I’d thought about texting to say I’d been struck down by a highly infectious strain of flu and couldn’t make it, but then I remembered that you don’t look at your mobile regularly like normal people. And you have a key to my flat, so even if you had to wear a mask and protective clothing, you’d still come and drag me outside.’

  ‘Correct!’ said Chloe, letting out a wicked laugh. ‘Nothing wrong with speaking to people on the landline, and a deal is a deal. You agreed to do this, so there’s no going back now.’

  ‘Well, yes, I did agree, but I am still an adult with my own mind, so I don’t have to do it if I don’t want to, no matter how much you blackmail me.’

  ‘True, but deep down, you know that I’m right and you know this will be good for you. Remember, I get nothing from this—other than seeing your happiness.’

  ‘More like watching me squirm and fall flat on my face,’ I said, shuffling up beside her.

  ‘It’s possible,’ she chuckled. ‘But as the saying goes, no pain, no gain. I can’t force you, Em, but I really think you should give it a go. And I spent all night researching the first activity to add to your itinerary, even sacrificing my ‘adult time’ with Brian, so it would be good to know I hadn’t gone without for nothing.’

  ‘Wow, you gave up sex with your husband? Now I know you’re guilt tripping me! I don’t know whether to apologise or say thank you,’ I said, picking up the latte Chloe had ordered for me.

  ‘Show your gratitude by saying you’re up for your first activity next Saturday.’

  Next week? Gosh. So soon?

  ‘I don’t think I want to go through with it anymore.’ I winced. ‘Especially now you’ve mentioned the word ‘itinerary’. Sounds very formal and full-on. I thought it was supposed to be fun?’

  ‘Don’t worry. It will be fun, but if you’re going to do this, it’s got to be done right. That’s why you need a proper itinerary. So,’ she said, whipping her sturdy polka dot notebook from her bag, ‘as I mentioned before, the plan is to get you out of your flat, making new friends, trying new things and finding love. All offline. We’ll meet here every Monday morning at nine-thirty for a weekly debrief once I’ve dropped Archie and Violet off to school.’

  ‘Or we can just meet at my flat?’ I suggested.

  ‘No! That’s the other thing.’ She rested her cup of tea back on the table. ‘I will not be coming to your place for the next two months.’

  What the hell?

  ‘Why?’ I protested. ‘We always meet at my flat. I like having you round.’

  ‘That’s exactly the problem. You’re not going to meet anyone if you’re stuck inside all the time.’

  ‘And I’m not going to meet anyone walking fifty metres to this c
offee shop either,’ I huffed.

  ‘You don’t know that. Anyway, let me finish explaining the plan first and then we can go through questions after,’ she snapped.

  ‘Yes, ma’am!’ I joked, mocking a salute.

  ‘As I was saying, we’ll meet here every Monday morning for a debrief where I will give you your assignment for the week…’ Assignment? What is this? University? ‘We’ll start off with just one or two activities, just to break you in gently, but by month two, I’ll expect you to be going out at least three or four times a week.’

  ‘Four times a week!’ I shouted. ‘I’ll never find the time to do that?’

  ‘Utter flapdoodle!’ said Chloe. ‘If you’ve got time to waste on Insta-bland and watching video tapes, you have time to go out every other day. Anyway, let me finish!’

  No one watches video tapes anymore, Chloe. It’s all about Netflix.

  ‘Okay, okay,’ I said. ‘Do continue.’

  ‘So—as I was saying, for the first month, I will find activities for you to do and brief you on where to go, what time they start and finish, etc., so all you’ll need to do is turn up and make friends. Then the following Monday, as it’s my day off, we’ll meet up, you can tell me how it all went, get your next assignment etc. Easy-peasy.’ She smiled, looking pleased with herself.

  ‘Yeah, easy for you to say,’ I scoffed. ‘And anyway, why does it have to be two months? Seems a bit random.’

  ‘Believe me, nothing I do is random.’ Chloe raised her eyebrows. ‘The challenge is two months because studies show that’s how long it takes to change a habit or to adopt a new one.’

  ‘I thought it was a month?’

  ‘That’s a myth that came from a book in the 1960s based around a twenty-one-day challenge, but that isn’t accurate. A more recent study found that it takes an average of sixty-six days—sometimes even longer. But I feel that two months is fair and in this instance should be sufficient to achieve the required result.’