Oh. My. God. This. Is. It. My heart thunders in my chest and, with difficulty, I swallow down my excitement. My throat is suddenly as dry as the Sahara desert so I grab my wine glass with a slightly shaky hand and take a grateful sip.
‘I’ve been doing some thinking. You know, we’ve been talking about some serious things lately.’ Chris fumbles the words.
‘Yes.’ I nod, trying to remain calm. ‘Like moving in together.’ I prompt.
He looks…worried? That’s normal, though, right? I mean, this is a big thing. I’m sure it’s fine. Every man must get a little tongue tied at this moment. Think positive, think positive.
‘And…’ I fiddle with the stem of my wine glass. He must just be working himself up to ask me.
‘And it’s just…’
He stares at me, looking a little awkward, and for a second a flash of disappointment washes over me. My stomach does a little flip like when you go over a hill in the car a little too fast and I suddenly feel like I’m going to hear something that I really don’t want to. This isn’t how I pictured the conversation going at all and I can feel the sheepish grin that’s been plastered on my face all evening beginning to fade.
‘You’re a lovely girl and everything…’
‘It’s just…I don’t think it’s going to work out between us.’
Excuse me? I stare at him, completely dumbfounded. Did I actually hear that right? Did he really just say ‘You’re a lovely girl’ after two years of being in a relationship with me? Seriously? And then the sledgehammer hits me with full force – he’s breaking up with me. That’s what’s happening here. There’s no marriage proposal. He’s breaking up with me.
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