Well, that didn’t end the way I was hoping it would.
I think in my semi-intoxicated state I’d had a mad idea about proving to her she was better off without that loser, Adrian. That there are far better lovers, better men. Like me.
But, whatever. There was no way I was going to push her to carry on. She’s clearly having a hard time getting past the emotional havoc that shithead wreaked on her and I don’t want to add to that.
I’m pretty sure her agreeing to come back to mine this evening wasn’t all about getting one over on her prick-of-an-ex though.
I got a good boost to my self-esteem anyway, from knowing she still finds me attractive. That there’s definitely still a connection there.
Even though things hadn’t finished badly, five years ago, I’d still been a bit cut up that it hadn’t worked out between us. I’d really liked her. Unfortunately, she’d wanted to get more serious and I really wasn’t in the market for that kind of commitment at the time. I wanted to live large during my uni years. At least, that’s what I’d told myself.
I’d thought about her a lot after we split though and wondered whether I should have tried harder to make it work.
Still, no point in hanging on to regrets, as I pointed out earlier.
Shame I didn’t get to make her come tonight though. I’d always loved seeing her lose it after holding herself back so tightly. That had been a big part of the fun when we used to have sex – the teasing and the winding each other up and the battling to get the other to relent and let go.
Anyway, I’m choosing to take this evening as a positive healing experience, just like my therapist would encourage me to. I’m moving on with my life. Forging ahead. Re-discovering the fun.
I’ve lived with the shitty way I’ve been feeling since Katya left for long enough. It’s time to concentrate on my emotional wellbeing now.
With that in mind, as soon as I wake up the next morning, I go straight out to the pool and do fifty lengths, then scoff down the meal that’s been laid out in the dining area of the apartment for me. It’s a traditional bento breakfast and it’s a thing of beauty, with each small dish presented on its own tiny, delicate plate or bowl. There are colourful pickles to go with the grilled fish, curls of crispy seaweed, pretty pink and white narutomaki fish cakes, steamed rice and a cup of miso soup to wash it all down with, followed by green tea.
I feel positively healthier after eating it all.
After taking a quick shower I call my driver to pick me up and we head into the city.
I’m going to stay busy today. Focused on myself. Occupied.
* * *
The Kinkaku-ji temple in all its golden magnificence is a sight to see. The gold leaf it’s decorated with is so luminescent it hurts my retinas to look at it. Not that I can bring myself to look away.
And the gardens it’s situated in are fucking magnificent.
It’sdazzlinghere.
No wonder it’s such a popular place to visit.
Walking around it, I’m conscious that my skin feels prickly, in a weird kind of way.
Every time I catch a movement out of the corner of my eye, I get a rush of awareness all the way up my spine.
My brain keeps telling me I’m seeing Chloe in my peripheral vision, but whenever I allow myself to turn and look, it’s never her, just some other woman with hair a similar colour to hers or with her height and build.
It’s really busy here with European tourists too, so it’s happening constantly.
Leaving the temple, I go to buy some noodles from a pop-up food stall in a public park and eat them on one of the communal picnic benches, exchanging a few friendly words with a bunch of other tourists – something I’ve not done in a long time. It brings it home to me that I spend most of my time now in exclusive, top-flight restaurants or behind roped-off VIP sections with other uber-wealthy people intent on removing themselves from the general public.
I’d forgotten what fun it could be to shoot the shit with a bunch of down-to-earth strangers.
After I finish eating, I go for a wander around the streets of Kyoto for another hour or so.
But nothing really grabs my interest.
I’m feeling oddly on edge, like there’s something else I should be doing – some unfinished business – and it’s messing with my head.
Eventually I thinkfuck thisand head back to the hotel. Sightseeing was never my bag and it definitely isn’t today, not when I’m in this mood.
