Baby on Board

We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together

Pushing the desk, I felt the muscles of my arms start to burn from the strain, not that I would let it stop me from rearranging my office. So far this morning, I've moved the cabinets, the sofa, the armchair and the coffee table but once my desk gets to where it needs to go, I'll be done and I can finally get back to doing some work. Not that I'm particularly interested or currently capable of doing what I'm supposed to be doing. 

Yesterday, I tried to focus on finding pieces for the next exhibition we're hosting but I kept getting distracted and the archives were giving me a headache. Since seeing Jasmine Gough and being taken aside by her on Tuesday, I've had Head in the Shed syndrome and haven't been able to function properly. It's honestly a miracle that I got out of bed and made my way into work because I can count the amount of hours' sleep I've had on one hand. I've been kept awake by thoughts of Jasmine.

With hindsight, I should have known that something was up when I arrived at Charlotte's baby shower. My sister-in-law, Sophie, was ignoring me and she's always been like a helicopter, hovering over me, making sure that I'm ok. Dan, meanwhile, is the total opposite of his wife. My brother normally gives me a wide berth and lets me get on with life as I feel fit but on Tuesday, he was like a shadow, just as our sister, Evie, was. Even Martha was constantly watching me, a pained expression on her face whenever she caught my eye. They must all have been in on the big secret otherwise they wouldn't have been acting so strange around me. 

They needn't have felt all too concerned about Jasmine reappearing, though. 

After the shock of seeing my ex-fiancée for the first time in months, I quickly realised that none of those feelings I once held for her existed any longer. They didn't linger. I used to be scared that would be lurking deep inside, biding their time before they stab me in the heart, but I was surprisingly ok with seeing her. 

Yes, my eyes lingered on her and it was nigh on impossible to take my gaze off her but in my defense, I find it difficult not to be struck when a beautiful woman walks into a room. To this day, I often do a double take when Charlotte enters a room but it means nothing. She's my best friend and as an art gallery owner, I'm attracted to beautiful things. That doesn't mean that I want to get back with Jasmine. 

Of course, she's beautiful. She wears her dark hair long with soft curls that draped over her shoulders and her green eyes still look hazel when the lights hit them just right. Her legs are as I remembered them- long and lean and perfectly showcased in a thigh skimming dress, a pair of heels making them look never ending. Her smile was ever present, as always, even though I got the feeling that it was often forced, like when she first met Martha. The only other time Jasmine ever looked that threatened and unsure was when a woman tried to chat me up at the Courtenay Foundation Ball last year. 

Despite all this, however, I found myself not really caring much for the fact that Jasmine was at the party. Sure, it was awkward at first but it wouldn't be; we hadn't seen each other since calling it quits and she was walking out the door, stealing the engagement ring that was a family heirloom. I later found out that she's given it to Sophie to return to my grandmother, but that's not the point. She left me and for a long time, I pined after her but I got over it. That in itself tells me all I need to know- Jasmine Gough was not the woman I was supposed to be with.