Page 90 of A Lot to Unpack
His smile widens, and I rest my head briefly on his shoulder, thinking – for maybe the millionth time today – that I’m so happy he turned up.
Eventually the lights dim just enough and the band starts playing the kind of jazzy Christmas covers that make you feel like you’re in a festive romcom.
Jordan takes my hand.
‘Shall we dance?’ he suggests.
‘Why not?’ I reply.
He leads me out onto the dance floor and we sway slowly under the fairy lights, my cheek against his chest, his warm hands on my waist. It’s one of those moments that you wish could last forever.
‘So,’ he says quietly. ‘Have you thought any more about my job proposal? Still happy to take it?’
‘What can I say? I love working for you,’ I reply. ‘What about… everything else?’
‘As far as I’m concerned, everything else is great,’ he tells me. ‘We’ll figure it all out together. As long as I’m with you, I’ve got what I want.’
‘Me too,’ I say.
‘I’ve never felt like this about anyone, not this quickly,’ he says. ‘I know it’s early days, but I’m excited to see where it takes us.’
‘So am I,’ I say, snuggling closer to him.
I feel fixed – as cringe as that sounds. Complete again. But while this might be the end of the story about how we got together, really it’s the beginning of the story of us. We’re only on the first page. Neither of us knows what the future holds, but we’re walking into it together.
37
ONE YEAR LATER
I swipe. And swipe. And swipe.
App dating never seems any less bleak, does it?
Men holding fish. Men posing with cars. Men in the gym. Bios that say things like ‘no drama queens’ and ‘I hate kids’.
I sigh dramatically. This is why getting back on the apps feels so demoralising. There’s just so much to swipe through in the hope of finding someone decent enough to go for a drink with.
I swipe again. Then again. Then – oh, we’ve got something.
I notice a profile that has been flagged for aggressive messages by no less than three users. I’m delighted to hit the ban button – in fact, I stare into his beady eyes and grin back at the photo of his smug smile as I watch his profile disappear.
‘Ugh. Another one,’ I say, shaking my head.
‘Really?’
‘Yep, third one today,’ I reply.
‘At least we’re weeding them out,’ Jordan says, spinning in his chair to look at me.
I lean back and stretch my arms over my head with a sigh.
‘It is weirdly satisfying,’ I reply. ‘I feel like a superhero, doing my bit to protect people.’
‘Oh, yeah, you’re basically Batman,’ he jokes.
‘Batwoman,’ I reply.
‘Why not?’ he says, laughing to himself.
