EXHALE: London Love 1.5 by SOPHIA SOAMES

Author:SOPHIA SOAMES [SOAMES, SOPHIA]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-10-24T16:00:00+00:00

LEO

So, did our fairy tale pan out? Did I live happily ever after with the supermodel who turned up at Gardener Grove station that Saturday afternoon last spring?

Of course, I didn’t, because life didn’t work that way. Love wasn’t found on Grindr, and people didn’t just fall in love over a Diet Coke in a rundown branch of Costa somewhere in South London. But feelings sometimes had a way of playing you for a fool, and a fool I certainly was.

Twenty-four hours later, he’d left me ugly crying, drained and distraught after a crazy marathon of sex and sweat and laughter, at that very same station. I’d fallen in love with Jamie Walters, just as he’d said I would. He kissed me goodbye with promises of non-stop texting and happily-ever-afters, laughing as I entered his number in my phone as Prince Charming and he changed my name to My Dragon-Slaying Princeling in his contacts. Once his train left the station, my heart completely broke, just as it always did. I didn’t trust my belief in him and all his tall tales, and I didn’t trust my own feelings. I knew where I was heading. Straight into heartbreak and despair.

Jamie was as perfect as he’d insisted he wasn’t. He said he loved me and made me smile with every little word that so carelessly spilled from his mouth. His laughter made my body sing. His touches and kisses birthed butterflies in my stomach that wouldn’t go away. I’d floated on promises of a future with him, yet now I couldn’t even remember what he smelled like. I missed the feeling of his hand in mine, his lips on my skin, his fingers in my hair. We’d slept in late that morning, spooned like two entwined souls unable to survive more than a few minutes apart. His body hadn’t left mine for those last precious hours, clinging to me as I had clung to him. I’d hung off his back as he moved around my tiny flat. I’d sat on his lap whenever he took a seat at my desk. And of course, we’d spent most of our short encounter horizontal in bed, mostly with different body parts inside one another.

I’d loved it. Every insane second.

He texted me as he’d promised, every morning and night. Long rants with big words that had me giggling as I read them out loud, hoping that hearing them would make them more real. It didn’t. I doubted every one of them as they’d tumbled out of my mouth. I clung to the hope he’d turn up on my doorstep and sweep me off my feet. I daydreamed of his distant castle, wishing he’d make good on the promised fairy tale that would never be my life. Those kinds of stories only happened to other people—to movie stars and no doubt on Netflix. Jazzed-up stories of true love that could never happen to someone as ordinary and plain as me.

We’d talked about fitting into boxes. He said

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