He’d call me? He’d call me. The fucking nerve of that man.

I would have laughed about the whole thing if it wasn’t so pathetic. I had never expected to see that face of his ever again. But I suppose life sometimes has some strange surprises for us all, doesn’t it? One moment I was dozing in bed and imagining what I’d wear to a fun Saturday date with a guy who wasn’t really that bad, all things considered, and the next moment I see a half-naked Hugo Turner in my hallway, smiling just as arrogantly as he did years ago.

Well, fuck him. Sure, there might have been a time in the past where him stumbling back into my life would have felt like an answered prayer. But I wasn’t that girl anymore. Nope. I had shrugged him off once before, and I guess I’d just have to do it again. Did I care that he was banging my idiot roommate at 2am last night? Nope. He wasn’t my boyfriend anymore, and at the end of this week, Kirsten wouldn’t even be my roommate anymore.

Some women have rebound relationships after they ‘break up’. Not me. I took on extra coursework, finished my degree early and landed a badass job that kept me plenty busy. And you know what? Turns out you really don’t need no man. I would never have achieved what I did in the last five years if Hugo hadn’t left. Doesn’t fate work in interesting ways?

I ambled over to the kitchen to make myself some coffee and began a mental catalogue of all the things I judged him for. First of all, he was still a man-whore, that much was clear. Going after Kirsten? Pitiful. Secondly, he was immature. Running away from a one night stand in his underwear? Not a good look. Third, even though he made a big deal at the time about pursuing a dumb career in the military, obviously that hadn’t panned out for him either. Not only had he left me to go and play cops and robbers overseas, clearly even that wasn’t enough to hold his attention. So, to conclude, good riddance.

I perched on the kitchen stool and tested my lips against the hot coffee. When Kirsten crawled into the kitchen I simply nodded in her direction. Skinny bitch.

“Hey,” she mumbled and then rooted around in the fridge. “Sorry, uh, about last night.”

“Last night? What do you mean?” I said and took a too-hot sip.

“You know, the uh… the noise,” she said and looked at me, carton of orange juice in hand.

“I didn’t hear anything,” I said and shrugged. I certainly wasn’t going to encourage her. She glared at me, then took one of the stools.

“Oh, well, good. I would hate to wake you up,” she said. I gave her a sweet smile. In truth it had been like sleeping next to a monkey house last night, the way she carried on, but I couldn’t let her know that. Thinking of that absolute ass of a man in any sexual way whatsoever was just something I wasn’t going to allow myself this morning, no way, no how.

“Last night was craaaazy,” she said and smiled to herself. God I was so glad I’d gotten that promotion and could live in my own place uptown as of next month. I was done sharing apartments with the likes of Kirsten.

“We went out to The Pits with, you know Jess and the gang? Anyway, we had such a fun time, I met this guy… Becky, I swear you’ve never seen a guy like this before—”

“Hey, I noticed you still haven’t cleared my deposit yet,” I said.

“Your…?”

“My deposit.”

She had really astounding blue bags under her eyes.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll absolutely get that before you move on, no worries,” she said and took a swig of orange juice.

I looked her up and down and tried to think of what on earth could have drawn a man like Hugo to a woman like her. I didn’t know whether to resent him or pity her.

“Anyway, he’s a marine, right? Like, an actual marine. Muscles like this,” she said and traced a giant bicep in the air. “Super funny guy, man did we laugh…”

“Obviously he just used you,” I said.

We locked eyes.

“Are you serious?” she said eventually and took another sip. Kirsten and I had shared a place for less than a year, but we already had a cold-burning feud between us that felt more like the thing ancient sworn enemies have.

“You had so much fun, he decided to up and leave before, what, nine?” I said, glancing at the clock on the wall.

She took another swig, loudly crammed the carton into the fridge door and left, probably to go and use all the hot water in the shower. I sighed. What did it matter to me? Her and Hugo could marry and have a million babies for all I cared. I was a successful woman with a career on the up and today, yes in just two hours; I was going to meet a man who was actually a decent, principled adult, for a proper date.

In fact, if anybody should be calling anybody, I should be calling Hugo, to let him know just how easy it was to forgive and forget him, and to show him how I didn’t just survive without him, I actually flourished.

I went into my room to get ready for the day, 95% dressing for Paul who’d come to pick me up later …and maybe 5% dressing for that idiot Hugo. I was done with Hugo Turner, no question. But it would be fun to show him just what he missed out on.