Day 1

For audio click here

The news hadn't' come as a complete surprise to Vic. He’d been on the verge of splitting up with Kylie himself. The relationship had been lurching from one disaster to the next for the last 8 months; ever since the unfortunate incident with the bridesmaid at Kathleen's wedding. Since then they'd been a dead relationship walking, but not talking and certainly not sleeping together. They’d stayed together out of a sense of duty; working at their relationship they called it. But deep down they both knew the only work that was needed was demolition. During the long sleepless, sexless nights, Vic had dreamt of this moment - the ecstasy of freedom, the feeling of release, of getting away from the web of misery that had entrapped them both.

And now that moment had come, it was time to get out there, play the field a bit, see if that barmaid in The Duke and that shop assistant in Tesco would like to crank things up a gear from flirting to… a smile crossed his face as he thought of the possibilities. New women weren't the only benefit. Now he could enjoy all the sport that Kylie hadn't liked him watching guilt free. And best of all, he could have bacon sandwiches for breakfast and lunch and dinner if he fancied it - the taste of freedom.

So why did he feel so hollow?

Vic stared at the cricket on the screen in front of him but he wasn't watching it. It was boring, without Kylie complaining about him wasting his life watching men in pyjamas whacking and fetching a ball. Instead, his mind kept wandering to the moment when the door had closed and Kylie was gone. She'd said she was going to tell him by text, but decided it would be better to do it in person. Vic felt a text would have been better, easier to deal with. At least, then he wouldn't have had to stand there and watch her walk away taking everything she wanted in a carry-on suitcase. A ten-year relationship boiled down to an overnight bag.

He looked at his watch, it was dinnertime; he should eat.  Was he hungry? Not really, but he should eat anyway. He didn’t want to be one of those victims; his girl had left him, it wasn’t the end of the world.  Vic opened the fridge, looked at the bacon and smiled. He took it out, but hesitated and put it back. He then took out a pepper, mushrooms and other veg. He'd make a veggie sauce tonight, it was Kylie's favourite. As he chopped the veg he remembered the time he'd once put Worcestershire Sauce in the recipe. Faced with the dilemma of throwing the food away or lying to his vegetarian girlfriend he decided to keep his gob shut and then felt guilty as he watched her eat the non-vegetarian meal with glee. Oh well, no harm was done, what she didn’t know didn’t hurt her. He’d put a few shakes of Lea and Perrins in today for old time’s sake. The sauce was bubbling away nicely and smelling great.  He stood the spaghetti in the saucepan, ten minutes and he could eat. Yes he was hungry; he was glad he'd made the effort

He opened the drawer to get a spoon to stir the pasta and saw the Star Wars Light Saber chopsticks that Kylie had bought him. Jesus, he'd opened that draw 100 times and not noticed them, but now she was gone they jumped out at him. He took them out and held them next to his chest, fighting the tears in his eyes and feeling the knot tie a little tighter in his stomach.

“Stop being daft,” he chastised himself, “you don’t even like Star Wars. And you know this is right. It's time to move on.” But his words didn’t help; it was easier said than done. Knowing that lopsided smile would never be for him again, knowing he'd never get to kiss those cheeks, or touch those breasts, knowing he’d never taste her veggie curry, was making his heart crack like toffee. He’d thought of her as the last piece in his jigsaw, but now she was gone it was like the whole puzzle had been broken up. Now he had to put it back together knowing that even when it was complete there would always be one bit missing. Would he ever find another piece to fill the gap?

He put the chopsticks back in the drawer and tried to pull himself together. Despite feeling lovesick, the smell of the sauce was reminding him he was hungry and the pasta must be ready by now.

“Fuck it!” He said.

The reason he’d gone in the draw in the first place was to get a spoon so he could ease the spaghetti into the pan; now he stood there and looked at the pasta slumped in the water. Half of it was soggy and cooked, the other half was keeping its head above water like an inexperienced swimmer; still as hard as when he'd got it out of the packet.

“Fuck it!” he repeated, before slumping on the floor and shedding the tears that had been building up all day.

If you enjoyed this, then why not buy one of my novels.