After Work Excess (5 page)

Needless to say, I felt awful all day, not because of my inability to do my job, but because I was desperately trying to work out how I was going to explain the previous evenings events to my fiancée.

***

Eventually though, I came up with a devious plan. I planned to tell him that I had a met a guy whilst out with the girls, and that he had approached me and had offered me a large amount of cash if I slept with him and that I had been phoning my fiancée to ask for permission to
go ahead with it
, and actually accept an
escort
meet
whilst he was away, hence the missed calls. I'd tell him that it was just for a
one night thing
, and the cash offer was just too good to pass up, as we could put it towards our upcoming holiday to Teneriffe.

I decided that I'd also add that I didn’t do it out of spite because he wasn't answering his phone, I did it in the hope that my fiancée would approve, and be eager to hear all about it when he arrived home on Friday night. I also deviously planned to take £250 out of my personal savings account, which I held at the branch to show him the cash that I'd made
for our holiday
, but one thing that I was
never
going to admit to was that he didn't actually wear a condom.

Was it a good enough plan? Well, it was all that I had, to be honest…

Over the next 36 hours, I played out my fiancée’s arrival over and over again in my head, rehearsing exactly what I'd say, how I'd explain that night, I even tried to think of what he'd counter my story with, how he'd respond, and what my answers would be when really pressed. The worry of how he would react, and whether he'd instantly be able to see through my carefully woven web of deceit, was just too much for me to bear, as when the Friday night finally arrived, and it came to the crunch, I just knew that couldn't lie convincingly enough. I knew if I did, and he saw through it - the truth would come out eventually and I'd just be left looking like even more of an ‘unfaithful slut’ than I already felt. So after a final moment of deliberation, I decided that I'd actually admit to everything, and just hope that after his initial reaction, that of anger and disappointment, which would probably continue for days or possibly even ‘weeks’, my fiancée would hopefully eventually forgive my
one and only
drunken indiscretion.

I just couldn’t live with myself, knowing that I was going to tell the man that I was due to marry such a bare faced and devious lie…

Later that evening, I can clearly remember that I felt intensely nervous as his car pulled up on the road beneath our flat, as he arrived home from his week away, but I knew that this was
the only way
. I had yet again played the impending conversation over and over in my head as I waited for him to enter through the front door, but sadly it really couldn't have gone any worse for me.

He didn't understand at all, despite my honesty which he sarcastically thanked me for, but he couldn’t hide the fact that he was absolutely heart broken over my infidelity, and so within two hours of me humbly admitting my infidelity - he was gone. God only knows where he went, but once Sunday night had arrived, I just knew, deep down in my heart that he was gone for good, as he was due to fly back to Ireland for another week at work the following morning

The following weekend eventually arrived, and I still hadn't heard anything from him, even though I had hoped that after 7 days he might arrive home and after thinking things through, and would want to sit down to discuss
where we went from here
, before once again hearing my heart-felt apology, but he didn't.

Another week came and passed, and although I had hoped and prayed for his eventual return, every single day since he had walked out of my life, I knew, deep down that after the two most miserable weeks of my life, and still no contact, that he simply wasn't ever coming back.

Then, finally, on the Saturday morning I received a letter, from him, marked with an Irish post-mark. I opened it with trembling hands, and began to read it's contents carefully through tear flooded, and bloodshot eyes. In the letter, he explained that he had already been struggling with the thought of me escorting, even though he had only set me up with three guys, and went onto say that he felt increasingly insecure about the fact that I seemed to be enjoying the
sex-dates
'just a little too much'. I felt my heart tearing apart, as I read on, only to find out that he had actually been considering
breaking off
our engagement, because of his deepening insecurities about our future together. And then he  explained that when I admitted my infidelity to him, it was the
final straw
and that he was sorry to walk out on me like he did, but ‘
enough was enough
’. He then concluded the letter by saying that in some ways it was a massive relief that I had cheated on him, as it showed that his reservations were well founded all along, and that he'd only talked about starting a family with me in an attempt to test my commitment to our relationship.

I cried and cried all day long, I was totally inconsolable, and after sharing several text messages with my friends, later that evening Holly, Steph and Claire came round to comfort me, and try to help me to take stock of the situation, after two solid weeks of personal misery.

Against my own wishes, they decided that the best thing for me, was to get me dressed up (after a bath of course, as I hadn't changed out of my dressing gown for two days) and get me out on the town for a wild and drunken '
girlie night out
’. I really wasn't in the mood to even leave the flat, but they were increasingly persistent, and absolutely insisted that I joined them, even if it was only for one hour. Reluctantly, I put on my favourite skinny jeans, some 4" black patent heels that Claire pulled from the back of my wardrobe and a tight Black River Island top. Although I had agreed to go along with them, I just hoped that we wouldn't bump into Ash and Naz, but I guess there was no chance as they lived in London – or so they said, as they may well have been lying to us all on that night!

The bars in the centre of town were understandably packed, as Saturday night was already in full-flow when we arrived and I was knocking back both the drinks and the guys  two at a time! With me having consumed far too many drinks already, we headed off to a club and once there the four of us met a group of younger lads, who we felt safe with, as one of them was Holly's younger brother. They were all a couple of years younger than us, so I'd probably say that they were all about 19 or 20, a bit immature for my liking - but safe company all the same. We all got chatting, and with me momentarily setting my heart-break to one side, we drank and had a good dance, as I was desperate to continue to put the thought of my broken relationship firmly out of my mind.

After a good hour of dancing solidly, I eventually retreated from the floor and sat with one of the guys, called Jamie, who seemed particularly friendly towards me. He was aware that I was 22 and told me that he was 20 and a close friend of Holly's brother, he seemed sweet, quite tall, about 6'1" or 6'2", slim with short brown hair. He made me laugh and that was a really good thing, especially considering what I'd just been through. Jamie told me all about his part-time minimum wage job and his ‘pimped up’ Vauxhall Corsa that had a purple strobe light underneath it, and he insisted that
I must see it
, as he mocked himself, which had me laughing loudly with him. I nodded along, but I couldn’t help but think, “What a chav!”

He was undeniably funny though, but I couldn't hold back my dark and depressing thoughts for long though, as he was asking me all sorts of probing questions about myself. I inevitably, and drunkenly ended up telling him about my three escorting ‘meets’ and how I had ruined my relationship with my ex-fiancée just two weeks ago, by letting a
smooth talking
Indian guy sleep with me after a drunken girls night out. Although he at first joked that I’d better
stop drinking
, as I might end up in bed with him, Jamie’s answer was simple, I was just ‘too’ honest, as he tried to advise me that I should have kept with my story that I'd met the Indian guy as a client and that I should have told my ex-fiancée a
little white lie,
and that if I'd done that - everything would be okay now. I thought about his advice for a moment as I looked down at my heels glumly as he spoke to me through the loud RnB music, straight into my blonde hair.

Then he really made me laugh, by saying “But hey, if you hadn't been through all that you would never have met me tonight!” I did laugh at that, I had to! He was at least two years younger than me and about 12 years younger than my ex fiancée, so surely he didn't think that he was actually in with a chance with me, but then I was at an
all-time low
, as you know.

“
You aren't shocked that I slept with three guys for cash then?” I dared to ask.

“
Not at all, you're a good looking girl, and I bet that you've had loads of offers from guys, so why not let them pay for it?” he professed, showing signs of wisdom beyond his tender years.

“
But it's a bit shameful isn't it?” I pressed, as I drunkenly lent towards his awaiting ear.

“
I guess so yes, but I bet that a lot of girls in here have done things that they regret, they just wouldn't admit to it, like you just did...”

“
Maybe...” I replied, as I looked up and took in the sight of the drunken revellers in this crowded club. A night-club that was filled with young girls, dressed tight dresses and party heels, with most of them wearing ridiculously long hair extension and false eyelashes. All probably in the vain attempt of being chatted up by a
charming Prince
, and inevitably being invited back to his place, for what they would no doubt hope would be the start of a loving and long term relationship. Although I for one, knew that most of the guys in this club were only looking for a drunken
one night stand
at 3am, and certainly wouldn't be calling these girls the following day, for a walk along the beach! How bitter and twisted love and life had made me suddenly become...

Soon after that deep and meaningful conversation, and after a much needed trip to the ladies toilet, I decided that I really needed to go home, I was after-all still heartbroken, and despite the copious amount of alcohol that I had consumed - this just wasn't right. Claire was busy flirting with an older guy on the dance-floor and Holly hanging out with her brother and Jamie, so Steph walked with me to the clubs entrance and I kissed her goodnight at just after 1am.

***

I was starting out on my lonely journey back to my empty flat, in the pouring rain, when I heard footsteps approaching from behind, I hoped that it wasn't anything sinister, but then realised that it was actually Jamie. He had tracked me down, if only to offer me the protection of his jacket, which I accepted and wore over my head, as he offered to walk me back to my flat. He was so kind in
looking out for me
, that I couldn't help but invite him in for a post drink coffee and to dry himself off, as it would have been rude not to. He readily agreed, but stated that he'd have to head back to rejoin his mates in half an hour, and as we drank our sobering coffees, we chatted freely whilst watching the late night repeat of ‘I'm a Celebrity - Get me out of here’.

After well over half an hour of sitting across from him, I complimented him, telling him that he seemed to have a relaxed and kind nature, and that I was thankful that he made me laugh so much. I knew where I wanted this conversation to head though, and was conscious that I didn't want to give him the wrong impression of me, so I explained that
a new guy
definitely wasn't what I was looking for right now. He listened intently, as I continued, stating that I still had some hope that my ex-fiancée would turn up on a cold Sunday morning, so there was no way I was going to let Jamie stay the night. I just wanted to be honest with him, as he may have been thinking that I’d invited him back to mine for some
filthy
rebound sex
.

“
So you just assumed that I'd planned to
charm you
into letting me stay the night did you?” he asked with a smirk.

“
Well you're a guy aren't you, and we've been chatting for most of the night back at the club, so surely for most guys, that would only mean
one thing
, especially now that you're back in my flat?”

“
Not
all guys
are like
that
Sammy...” he replied, sounding genuinely offended.

Deep down though, I sensed that Jamie fully understood, but I felt quite guilty about pre-judging him, and moved across to the sofa that he was sat on to continue chatting a little more, not wanting him to leave on a sour note. As we chatted, I was conscious of the time, as he must have been with me for a good hour, but the undeniable problem was that I was very emotionally venerable, and low in confidence and Jamie made me feel good about myself, even if it was only for this moment. I could blame the alcohol, but if you've ever been unceremoniously dumped by someone, as I'm sure everyone has at some point in their life, your brain tends to make quite irrational decisions at these moments of self-loathing. So, I have to admit that I did end up leaning forward and initiating a kiss with him, and thankfully although he seemed a little shocked at first, he soon eagerly reciprocated, kissing me back passionately.