I had hidden in that cafe for hours, waiting for them to get away from the entrance. Hours of my life that she wasted.
When I finally got home, I was a wreck. Emotionally that is. How could she have moved on already. The slut.
But every time I thought of her, I fell in love again. In so many ways she was my dream girl.
I reached for my phone and started to dial her number. I stopped myself. I'd probably end up ringing at a bad time; I'd try again another time.
That's when I got a text. It was a wrong number - just a short message from one lover to the other. I missed that: checking my phone to see the three best words I the English language in a message from Cam: I love you.
It got me thinking. Maybe I should move on. Find someone new who actually does love me and care about me. Not like her. Not like she did.
But then something dawned on me. Something that made me sit down and wait for her to call.
If I had gone out, I'd have only done the same thing. I needed her to call. To want me back. Otherwise, what do I do?