Get You The Moon ✓ [published 2021]

3 | Scarlet

For my favourite,
Abhu,
Who started #HasnitaForPres
Much love,
Preznita

Relationships were a lot of work. That was the startling conclusion that I had reached after two years of dating Jack Li. Today, marked our two-year anniversary.

Relationships were a lot of work. I repeated the words over and over in my head as I applied a layer of nude coloured liquid lipstick.

Relationships were a lot of work. I tried not to glance at the pile of uncompleted work on my desk and slipped into my heels.  With a sigh, I examined my appearance in the mirror.  Once satisfied, I grabbed my wallet and stalked out of my bedroom.

"Where are you off to?" Sawyer's plummy voice followed me as I moved through the house.

"I'm having dinner with Jack," I replied stiffly. Sawyer had never been the biggest fan of Jack, and I expected he'd have something distasteful to say, now more than ever.

As I opened the door to my car, I stared at him just as he said, "I hope he appreciates you."

The skin under my eyes wrinkled and I studied him curiously. In the past year, Sawyer had never had anything nice to say to me. He returned my stare with a pinched smile. The kind that you give to a stranger when you make accidental eye contact while walking your dog. We didn't have a dog, nor were we strangers. Though he sure as hell felt like one.

I wanted to thank him, but his words weren't entirely a compliment. "There's dinner in the fridge."

I hoped he understood what the words really meant. That they were filled with gratitude and apology. Gratitude for his words, apology for the words that weren't said.

Sawyer nodded and walked back into the house, his head bowed, and shoulders hunched. If he were a dog, his puppy ears would've been hanging.

A hand squeezed my heart. I wanted to run up and hug him. Maybe even remind him that our parents would be back tomorrow. Anything. I caught sight of my watch and knew that if I didn't leave now, I would be late.

With one last glance at the closed door, I got into my car and tried to pretend that I didn't hate driving in heels.

■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■ ■

Twenty minutes. Twenty goddamn minutes. That's how long I spent tapping my fingers on the table I had reserved for the dinner. My fingers were numb from the movement, and Jack still wasn't here.

A few years ago, I had binge watched so many rom coms, that when I walked, I could hear Air Supply's 'All Out of Love' in my ears. That's when I had decided that I wanted the kind of love where my other half kept a picture of us in his wallet. But instead, I had gotten stuck with the kind of love where I was waiting for my boyfriend to turn up to our anniversary dinner.

I glanced at my phone one more time, waiting for a text from him. When I didn't see one, I heaved another tired sigh. I could've been writing the minutes for the last prefect meeting, or even doing my history assignment.

I pulled up my contacts and pressed on Jack's name. I wondered if other girls stored their boyfriend's number in their contacts without any hearts or any frills. No endearments, just Jack.

When we had first started dating, his name was something incredibly cheesy. So cheesy, that my brain had chosen to erase it from my memory. After our first big fight, out of sheer pettiness, I had removed it and replaced it with Jack. Since then, I had never gotten around to changing it.

Two numbers sat under his name. I almost clicked on the first one out of habit, but just at the last second, I pressed the one below it. Jack had recently changed his number, courtesy of his father being hired by a different mobile company.

Last time I had tried calling Jack, I ended up seeking interior designing advice from a stranger. If I hadn't been texting Jack, I would've assumed that he had given me the wrong number. But even I didn't think our relationship had reached that point.

As the phone dialed, I focused on breathing. Reminding myself that relationships required work. Blowing up wouldn't do us any good. I had to be the bigger person.

Before Jack even had a chance to greet me, I spoke, "Hey love, you're late again."

"Not your love, sweetheart." For a split second, I wanted to replay the words, just to appreciate the fruity voice one more time.

I sighed. "Is this the wrong number, again?"

"Unfortunately."

It was one thing to call a wrong number, but it was another thing to do it twice. Embarrassment morphed itself through a quick defensive reply, "Then you shouldn't be calling me sweetheart."

"Alright, love." Whoever it was, he was definitely smiling as he had said the words. With the extra emphasis on the word 'love', I could hear the grin in his voice.  The call ended, with what I assumed to have been a press on his phone.

I took another sip of my complimentary water and wondered if it was worth dealing with more pitying glances from those around me.

Turns out, I shouldn't have bothered. Because Jack didn't turn up. And when I called him again an hour later, he had completely forgotten.

Fun fact: this is actually based on a true story. I was dating this guy and I'd try to call him sometimes but it would re-direct to another number. I never had such intriguing conversations with him but it got me thinking.