I know what you're thinking.

You read those last two chapters, shaking your head in disbelief. Tutting. Possibly you were internally screaming at my actions. Wishing you could write a comment next to my thoughts, telling me I'm being an idiot.

You think I'm naive.

And you're absolutely right.

I am naive. I have a tendency to focus on the good in people. The curse of the optimist. I can't change who I am. I don't know if I would even want to.

You likely think Declan is a bit of a prick too. And maybe you're right. But he was my prick.

Oh holy crap, that sounds all levels of wrong, doesn't it? Strike that line from the records, your honour!

Anyway, I've always known Declan isn't flawless. He's not actually a bad guy though; he's just a bit . . . Selfish. He's still got room to grow as a person. A lot of room. But I loved him in spite of this.

So why am I like this, I hear you ask?

Well, firstly, when it comes to matters of the heart, and various other organs, I was a bit of a late starter. I had my first kiss at sixteen. (It was terrible, FYI.) I thought "oral sex" meant French kissing for an embarrassingly long time (I feel I should state this is in no way related to the dreadful first kiss). And I didn't actually lose my virginity until I was 23.

That being said, in the three years prior to having sex for the first time, I studied for it with the same dedication I put into my exams.

I acquired a book called "203 Ways To Drive A Man Wild In Bed". The less said about how I happened across that particular how-to guide, the better. (Okay, if you really want to know, I found it in my mum's bedside cabinet. I know. Full-body-cringe mode enabled.) I read the book cover-to-cover, then I got out the coloured post-it notes so I could bookmark certain hints and tips.

I poured over the sex-related articles in magazines. I even watched some porn. Purely for research purposes, you understand. I got no enjoyment out of it whatsoever. (Okay. Maybe a little.)

By the time my opportunity arrived, I was fairly sure I was an expert in all things sex-related.

That was, of course, only in theory though.

In practice, it was probably not so good. Awkward. Bumpy. Sweaty (and not in a good way).

I was a little bit devastated, I can't even lie. I genuinely thought, thanks to all my research, I was going to be an absolute freak in the sheets. A sex goddess.

But, no, I basically ended up acting like the shy, repressed virgin I actually was.

It got better though. Thank goodness! But that initial first was once again another time when reality had absolutely no bearing on my own expectations.

I still have that book though. The tips do come in useful at times. Especially with Declan.

Anyway, I think I've established I've always been a bit . . . Innocent. And then there's my aforementioned affliction of tending to ignore the bad traits in folk. There's enough negativity in the world without adding further to it, in my opinion. So, yes, I'm probably also a bit too trusting.

I check my phone again, knowing that I'm unlikely to have a signal, given I'm currently underground on the Glasgow subway, but still somehow expecting a message from Dec to tunnel its way through.

Surely he's already regretting his decision? How can he let me go like this? My eyes well up with tears again, and I tilt my head back slightly to try to stop them trickling down my face. Which proves to be a completely useless exercise, of course. Thankfully the carriage is empty apart from me, so I give into the briefest urge to cry again, before quickly wiping my face with a tissue. The train pulls into Hillhead subway station, and I walk out into the bustling west end, heading towards my flatshare.

I bob and weave my way through what seems like thousands of happy couples. Did they all come out in force to make me feel worse? I picture some sort of viral campaign going out while I travelled from St Enoch to Hillhead. A flash mob request of sorts . . .

Are you happily coupled up? Free immediately? Come on down to Byres Road right now, where we will all proceed to flaunt our joy in Abigail Watson's stupid single face!!!

No one is paying me the slightest bit of attention though, so I'm going to have to assume it's actually just a very unhappy coincidence.

As I pass the Botanic Gardens, my phone springs to life with a message. Declan. My heart leaps in my chest, hope consuming me with one cheerful chirp of my mobile. I stop walking, and fumble to open the text, my breath quickening with every panicked movement.

I'm so sorry, Abby.

Well, that's a good start, right? I read on.

With hindsight, I realise I should have broken up with you while we were still in the pub. I probably gave you the wrong idea by bringing you back to mine. I hope you can forgive me, in time. Dec xxx

Oh.

Little Miss Perky Optimist has taken a leave of absence; she's away to scream obscenities into the abyss. Meanwhile I feel like my body is collapsing in upon itself. Numbness descends, as I read and re-read the message, trying to find some sort of hidden meaning that I know isn't really there. Declan isn't that deep, after all.

I drop my phone into my bag, and pick up the pace. I can't even bring myself to reply right now. I'm scared of what I might actually say. I'm upset, and I'm furious, and I'm currently really wishing that I hadn't bothered searching for the handcuff key. I can't stop shaking.

I let myself into the flat, and only then do I allow myself to completely lose control. "Fucking arsehole!" I scream. At this point, I'm not sure if I'm insulting Declan, or addressing myself for my utter stupidity. I launch my bag across the hallway, feeling the need to just throw something, anything. I wish I had a punchbag right about now.

As I pick up the contents of my bag, tears pricking at my eyes again, I hear a door close, and I freeze before I glance up.

Of course it's bloody Ric. The one guy who always seems to catch me in my most vulnerable of states. Mostly because he's my current flatmate. But probably also partly because I'm just a hot mess.

"You okay?" He asks. Dark eyebrows rise quizzically above opaque brown eyes. I can never really tell what this guy is thinking, and that is probably what annoys me most about him.

(I actually have a long list of things that annoy me about Ric, but I'm sure we'll get into that later.)

I nod, rising to my feet. "I will be," I mutter.

He folds muscled arms across his chest, head tilting to one side with curiosity as he assesses me further. His gaze burns through me, as if he can read every single one of my thoughts. Yet another thing about him that makes me fume. Especially since the intensity of the look seems to pin me to the spot. I am powerless to move.

"Let me guess." When he finally speaks again, his voice is quiet. Measured. "Declan?"

I don't want to admit it. Don't want to give Ric, of all people, the satisfaction. But I know my face has given me away immediately. So I nod.

A strange expression, one I don't quite understand, dances across his face, disappearing almost as quickly as it arrived. Then, one side of his full mouth curves into the smirk I've gotten to know - and hate - so much over the past two months.

"Told you so," he says, the vaguest hint of smugness swirling inside those three words. And then, without looking at me again, he disappears back inside his bedroom.

I take a fortifying deep breath before I head towards my own room.

I bloody hate that dude.

I'm interested to know what you think of Abby. And how about Ric? (I feel like we all share a similar opinion of Declan already so we probably don't need to go into that further!)

Oh, and the book mentioned in this chapter? It does exist. I know this because a friend bought it for me as a present many years ago. 😉

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