The Thorn Of A Rose

Chapter Nine

I wake to some sunlight streaming in through the gap in my curtains. I don't remember closing them last night. 

I quickly look beside me, to where Lloyd was and there's no sign of a male sleeping in it. I sit up, seeing my clothes on the floor but none of his. He left. For some reason, I feel disappointed, a feeling that is alien to me when someone has left after sex. I prefer them to go after we've done the deed, the thought of them sticking around for a cuddle irritates me. This time I thought he would stay, he's no longer a one night stand and we went on a date. 

He closed my curtains, my phone has been put on charge and as I reach for it on my white bedside table, I see a card beneath it. He's left me his business card? My subconscious is screaming prostitute at me and I feel almost angry at the cheek of him. 

I get up quickly, showering last nights sex off my body. I don't wash my hair, instead that's thrown up on top of my head and after my shower, I get ready for a run. I compose a text to Cora, telling her to meet me at our usual cafe in town in an hour and I head out with my headphones, my phone and my subconscious who is still reminding me of how much of a whore I am. 

The run consists of my legs going at a faster pace to try and run away from my thoughts, ones that scream I need to stop engaging with this man because it's going to result in me getting what's left of my heart broken again. He isn't in this to get to know me, he's doing it to get a regular fuck, a friends with benefits. The crosses my mind, would it really be so bad? I shake the thought, yes it would. 

Friends with benefits never ends well, sleeping with someone more than once never ends well and look at where it's gotten me, I'm forcing myself to run for an hour just to try and get the anger out of my body. Do I even have the right to be angry? We didn't exactly state the terms and conditions of whatever last night was. I specifically told him that I don't do dates, I was the cold one to him and yet here I am, annoyed that he left after sex. 

A part of me is egging me on, telling me I have a right to be angry, instructing me to rip up that god damn business card and burn it. He couldn't even be arsed to write a note and say that he had fun, or that he wants me to call him. Does he see me as some sort of business arrangement? He pays for fancy meals and I give him sex in return? The thought makes me even angrier and I'm bolting down the streets of London, my legs landing heavy on the dry pavement. 

I suppose I could message him or call him to say that what he did was bad, but why would I do that? It makes me look pathetic and weak and I'm certainly not that person. But I'm also not a rude person, I remind myself. I can't stoop down to his level, then I don't have a leg to stand on. 

Each suggestion I make to myself sounds stupid. I could ignore him for a day or two, see if he tries to get in touch with me. I could say I was busy,  I was out having a great time and not thinking about you. It would be a lie, he knows when I'm lying and I hate that. This should be enough to make me go off him, it should be enough to give me the ick, but it's not. It's infuriating, it's exasperating. I want to be turned off by him, I want this anger to transform into me never thinking about him ever again, yet here I am on a run at 9AM because he left my apartment at God knows what time and left a business card. 

Suppose he'd have left a note, would I be happier then? Would it make me less angry or would I have the same level of anger because he still left? What the hell is it that makes him so different to everyone else? If this was any other man, I'd have thrown the business card in the bin no problem, yet with him I'm angrily stomping around the streets of London asking myself why I'm such a slut. 

Deep breaths. 

I stop just down the road from the cafe, giving myself time to recover and cool down before I meet Cora. I have no doubt that she'll find this hilarious, who wouldn't? I try to put myself in his shoes, try to imagine what was possibly going through his mind when he left the card but I can't see how he thought that it was a good idea.