Chapter Three

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Kylie’s house is a little terrace on a cul-de-sac in Wrenthorpe, a village close to where I live. Judging from the bright red front door, I decide that she’s going to be a show-off and that I’m not going to like her.

Dan answers the door and pulls me into a hug like I’m an old friend and not his ex. “I’m really glad you could make it,” he says as I follow him through a narrow hallway into a kitchen dotted with people.

“This must be Chloe!” a high-pitched voice screeches. Or maybe I’ve upped the octaves in my head because I know that this voice belongs to Kylie.

I’m surprised by how much she looks like me. From the way Dan was going on, you’d have thought she was a super model. She doesn’t look that much different from how I pictured her though, if you stretch her face out a bit, make her hair a mousier colour and add a few pounds around her middle. Unlike my imaginary Kylie, the real one is very much an apple shape, meaning that she’s pretty busty with a rounded tummy and small hips.

“Can I get you a drink?” she fusses, picking up a bottle of red wine from the kitchen counter.

Yuck. “Um…actually I’m more of a mixer girl.”

“Do you want orange or lemonade with your vodka?” Dan takes over, remembering that I don’t like cola.

“Orange please,” I tell him, leaning against the counter as he measures out the vodka.

Kylie glares at me and sips her wine. She probably thinks I’m here to steal Dan back but all I’m really thinking about is how I’m going to make my escape.

Dan hands me my drink and turns to an older man to his left. “You know Derek, don’t you?”

I don’t, as it happens, know Derek. He’s a short, balding man with a bright red face who looks rather out of place in Kylie’s modern kitchen.

“Hello.” Derek holds out a hand with short, stubby fingers which I reluctantly shake. “You a friend of Dan’s?” he asks, acknowledging the fact that we’ve never met before.

I nod and smile, which is what you do when you don’t want someone to talk to you but Derek doesn’t seem to get the message.

“What do you do then?”

“Personal shopper,” I say quickly. Normally, this is the sort of thing that excites women but puts men right off the conversation.

“Ah right. Kylie’s in to all that.”

“Is she?” I scrutinize the plain outfit she’s wearing. “I though she worked in a bank?”

Derek chuckled. “Oh, she does. It’s just an interest of hers.”

“You a friend of Kylie’s then?” I ask him.

“No, more a friend of Dan’s. He’s been with Kylie a while now though.”

He obviously has no idea who I am. Or else, he has no idea that Dan even had a girlfriend before Kylie.

I suck in a breath, pouring the contents of my glass down my throat. I knew it. Dan was seeing that bitch all along. And he thinks he can feed me some crap about a trial separation?

“I’m just going to nip out for some air,” I tell Derek, heading for the open patio doors.

There’s a bloke lighting a cigarette outside in the garden. He nods at me as I step out into the cool air.

I place my almost-empty glass down on the plastic garden table and make myself comfy on one of the chairs. The man sits next to me and offers me a cigarette, which I politely decline. I’ve only come out here to get out of the way of Dan and Kylie before I punch one or both of them.

“Here you are!” Dan appears in the doorway.

I take a final gulp of my drink, hoping he’s not going to drag me back inside. I’ve had enough of Kylie’s sneering face.

The smoker stands up and lets himself back into the kitchen, still holding his lit cigarette. It would almost be worth going inside to see Kylie’s face.

Dan sits down in his place. “I really appreciate you coming. It shows that we can both move on.”

“Well you’ve done that, haven’t you?” I nod towards Kylie’s house.

Dan sighs as though I’m being unreasonable. “Look, I really do miss you.”

“Because moving in with a woman who’s clearly been your bit on the side for longer than you care to admit is really the action of a man who misses his ex,” I mutter more than a little sarcastically.

“I mean it Chloe. I…I think I might have made a mistake.”

I force myself to look at him, taking in his black hair gelled up off his face and the clean-shaven look he rarely sported when he was with me. This is typical of Dan thinking that the grass is always greener.

“Say something,” he urges.

“I’ll pass the rest of your stuff on,” I say, standing up and heading back to the house.

Kylie blocks my path. I think maybe she’s heard our conversation but why should I be worried about that? I push past her and leave Dan to deal with it.

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