After I sent a light, non-accusatory text, telling the German I’m in Milan and then Paris, hoping his wedding trip goes well, nothing.
Ooh, a text from Wood Finishes Direct, and one from The Kennington Tandoori, a place I’ve only eaten in once; I certainly didn’t have sex there seven times over the course of three bookings. He did open my message a couple of days later, at 6.30am, but no reply. Then, a couple of days later, this:
‘How did I miss this message? Sorry. Gosh, you are busy. I hope I can see you when I’m back – just want to keep connected. So happy to see your message. Plans after this wedding thing.’
During his wedding weekend, I texted: ‘Try to avoid snogging strange women on terraces x’.
Him: ‘Ha ha. Only one for that.’
So, of course, I felt buoyed. I told Nic. ‘I can tell by your face you are going to see him again,’ she said. ‘All I can say is, you deserve everything that comes your way.’
Which is a bit harsh from someone who never…
