Free Sex with the Ex by Tyne O’Connell Page A

Jean’s bag and I had to fish it out, she really does get the most awful wind. “Look, can we talk about my second thoughts about Richard properly, please?” I pleaded.
    â€œYou’re always having second thoughts,” Clemmie shrugged.
    â€œYou’ve already said that,” I reminded her.
    â€œUsually right at the point that they meet someone else and start moving on,” Elizabeth added unhelpfully.
    â€œThat is so untrue!” I huffed indignantly.
    Elizabeth snorted. “That is as fair as fair can be. Let’s go through them, shall we. Macbeth. Dated him for two years at university, dumped him because—”
    â€œHis name wasn’t Macbeth,” Clemmie giggled.
    â€œNo, his name was Hamish,” I snapped.
    â€œAnd let’s not forget Henry!”
    â€œWho’s Henry?” I asked, horrified with myself.
    â€œPoor Henry,” teased Elizabeth. “First day at work and you date the boss! That was wrong.”
    Clemmie shook her head.
    â€œHe was not my boss. He was the front-desk manager. I was events organizer. Our paths barely crossed unless I had to ask him to deal with an unruly party that wouldn’t leave.”
    â€œAlso, wasn’t he gay?” Clemmie pondered.
    â€œHe was so not gay!” Sometimes my girlfriends can be really insulting about the men I date. “He asked for anal sex, that’s all!”
    Elizabeth rolled her eyes. “Same thing. Fine. You dumped him because he was gay. Eight months later he hooks up with another girl and you decided you wanted him back.”
    â€œWell, I got it wrong, didn’t I? That is not a crime. Besides, at least it proves he wasn’t gay,” I pointed out.
    â€œSo, getting back to Hamish,” Clemmie added. “Remind us why you dumped him?”
    â€œHe, erm…” Why did I dump Hamish? “He cheated on me,” I improvised, although actually I’m pretty sure we just drifted apart—you know, we lacked the X-factor together.
    â€œIs that for sure?”
    I suddenly felt ashamed for maligning Hamish’s name. “What do you mean ‘for sure?’ How sure do you want? Forensics?”
    â€œFine, so why’d you start seeing him again?”
    â€œI wondered if I shouldn’t forgive him. Besides, the sex was great!” Well, it was perfectly adequate anyway.
    Clemmie shook her head. “Hello? Are you blind? You only started wondering because he started dating another girl.”
    â€œShe was just a rebound girl. He told me so.”
    Elizabeth looked me in the eye. “Lola, maybe you can’t see the pattern here, but don’t you think it’s strange that you only start having regrets about the demise of your relationships once the guy has finally moved on? Think about it, Lola,” she urged, slurping a sip from Clemmie’s glass. “Every single serious relationship you’ve had since I’ve known you, you think it’s the one. Then you decide it isn’t and end it. Then the guy moves on and you have second thoughts. It’s a pattern.”
    All three girls nodded. God, she is right, a voice inside me screamed. But then another voice, a much louder, more strident voice said, “What if they were the one, though?”
    I put it to them. “What if he was the one, though?”
    â€œWhich one?”
    Talk about missing the point. I rolled my eyes. “Richard, of course.”
    Clemmie, Josie and Elizabeth looked at one another and shook their heads. Clemmie touched my arm in a patronizing sort of way. “Maybe you just can’t cope with the idea of your exes moving on? I mean, that’s perfectly natural.”
    â€œIn a sort of scary bunny boilerish way,” Elizabeth retorted.
    Then Josie very unhelpfully added, “My advice is move on and find your own Emmanuel.” Smug married that she is.
    â€œBut that’s what I’m saying. What if I found my Emmanuel