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Chapter 75 - The Love of His Life
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Always Finding Mr Wrong Chapter 76 - Bloody Idiot
I’m normally the safest driver in the world. Or at least that’s what I tell myself. Scott would say I drive like a grandma, behind the wheel , sticking to the speed limit and often below it. Scott, my heart aches. But with the needle on my speedometer touching a perilous 74mph – okay, so I’m not the next Schumacher or Hamilton, but I’m belting along the M62 in a small Vauxhall corsa leaving behind a caravan and two heavy duty trucks. My heart is hammering against my ribcage as I play corny movie scenes in my head. Lovers running with open arms and floaty haired women being spun around. Kisses that go on forever. The problem is, that this reunion isn’t going to be straightforward. Firstly, there’s Katie. Whether she fancies Daniel or not, there’s protocol to follow. Call me old fashioned, but declaring your love for someone else’s boyfriend isn’t the done thing. Yet, that is exactly what I’m about to do. And I’m not sure if I care about the consequences. And then there’s t
Always Finding Mr Wrong Chapter 77 - An Envelope
I try to think of an ingenious way to get through security. But after yet another infuriating conversation with another official, I’m forced to accept that the methods to combat terrorism are also enough to intervene when a unfit, scruffy and desperate woman. With an alarming and increasing level of determination I decide to buy a ticket to somewhere in Asia, just so that I can get through the security gates. But after another episode at the security desk, the fact that my passport is in a box at my new home is clearly a show-stopper. I stand in the airport in a confused daze, and take out my phone. I wanted to do this in person, but now I have no choice. I close my eyes and wait for the line to ring. It goes straight to voicemail. “Oh god,” I cry, but nobody notices. For almost an hour I pace up and down, trying to come up with a brilliant plan. But no matter how I try, nothing happens and no plan is formed. I look at my watch for the millionth time today and see that
Always Finding Mr Wrong Chapter 78 - I Love The Real You
There’s one single word on the front: Emma. Seeing my name written in Scott’s very distinctive handwriting makes my heart pause and I gasp for breath. With my heart racing and fingers trembling, I open the envelope and head to my small balcony terrace. I throw myself into the chair, cross my legs and scan the letter, unable to devour its contents quick enough. ******** Dearest Emma, I’ve written this letter multiple times, and rewritten it in my mind at least a thousand times. Yet o never thought putting pen to paper would be so difficult. This is the eleventh copy and I’m still not happy with it. I thought about quoting your favourite poetry and literature but nothing seems appropriate enough to explain the situation, so it’s down to clumsy old me. There’s just one small problem; what do you say to the woman you’ve been in love with for years? From the moment I first met you, Emma, my life has been enhanced in a way I can’t fully explain. All those cold, wet and miserable aft
Always Finding Mr Wrong Chapter 79 - Made to Hold You
The moment I see him I am balled over by how handsome he is, he’s irresistibly, mouth wateringly sexy. I’m looking at a man who, thanks to project Scott, is the ultimate manifestation of female desire. He turns heads wherever he goes. But that isn’t the reason I love him. It’s not the clothes, or the hairstyle, it isn’t even his body or face. The Scott I love is the funny, intelligent, caring, loyal and lovely person I met all those years ago. That’s the Scott I long for, the Scott I can’t spend another day without. The trimmings and display are irrelevant. “Hi there, Emma,” he grins. His grin becomes a smile and it sends a surge of Hope through my veins, turning my legs to jelly and killing my ability to speak. “Are you okay?” “Yes. I … yes,” I stutter. Emotion rushes through me and my heartbeat thuds in my chest, thundering in my ears. “I’m just surprised to see you,” I say once my words find their way back to me. “And… happy?” I nod as tears cloud my vision. “Ve
Always Finding Mr Wrong Epilogue
If anybody had told me six months ago that Dani and my dimwit brother would become an item, I’d have questioned their sanity. She’s sophisticated, intelligent and witty. And, well, he farts like a flatulent rhinoceros and is refined as those hillbillies on The Hills Have Eyes. Yet, they got together two weeks after the fire, when Dani expressed a sudden and mysterious desire to join me when I popped round to Steve’s to loan him The Walking Dead box set. I stayed for fifteen minutes. Dani stayed for four days. Her theory is that I am blind to Steve’s charm because he’s my brother. That he’s fun, loving, amusing and attentive. She also tried to tell me that he’s great in bed, but I acted like a grown up and stuck my fingers in my ears, while singing “la-la-la-can’t-head-you-la-la-la” until she stopped. As for Steve, well, he’s smitten. Honestly, she’s turned him into a puppy dog – albeit not a very cute one. Despite my reservations, they seem to be enjoying themselves. And for the
Always Finding Mr Wrong Chapter 1 - The Hangover
Chapter 1 - The Hangover Waking up with a pounding head, a dry mouth that has to be drier than a nun's downstairs, aching limbs and a random arm draped over my waist, I struggle to get up and then stumble to the bathroom. I rub my eyes and stare at the hungover, half dead panda-eyed loser staring back at me.How on earth is this my life? Who is that in my bed? Why can I not find Mr Right? Why do I always choose Mr Right-Now? Why am I always finding Mr Wrong? Surely I have dated them all - skinny boys, fat boys, still live with their mummy boys, sorry I can't stay boys and it's not you, it's me boys. When will I ever learn?And what is that damn smell? I quickly smell under my arm and then cup my hand and breathe into it, then smell. That smell would be me - holy shit. It's horrific, it's like something actually crawled into my mouth and died. How glamorous is my life?I’ve made it to the grand old age of 31 alive, a semi-decent job as a mortgage advisor, kept myself in reas
Always Finding Mr Wrong Chapter 2 - Brunch
My head is pounding as I walk through my local area, it used to be a small area, however developers had thought that Kingswood was a desirable area and continued building new home after new home. I can’t complain too much. It’s become a self sufficient area, local shops, bars, restaurants, schools and even a health centre. What I care about now though is the lovely little cafe/restaurant that I’m heading to. The Village Green. They have a lovely breakfast and lunch menu. Just what I need, along with a drink to wash down some ibuprofen to ease this headache. I check my phone and see several messages from the girls. Laura, Ellie, Pavan and Katie are already there, having driven rather than walked. I don’t know how they dared, I must be at least three times over the legal drink drive limit still. Unless they didn’t put as much away as I did. There are messages from Heidi and Shelly saying they can’t make brunch, but let’s do drinks and takeaway tonight as they have to hear about my mo
Always Finding Mr Wrong Chapter 3 - The Shoes that Ruined it All
Some might say that I don’t need another pair of heeled black shoes with a to-die-for heel. Particularly when, to the untrained eye, there are several similar pairs fighting for space under my bed. Others might point out that the success of a first date is never to do with the quality of footwear. That you’re just as likely to meet the love of your life in 99p flip-flops as in glorious sling-backs that cost . . . well, let’s not dwell on the cost. Let’s dwell instead on Rich, with whom I’m going on a date this evening. The gorgeous, intelligent, chisel-jawed, tight-arsed Rich. That way, you’ll understand about the shoes – and why, despite my strict rule that a first date will never result in sex, I have removed all trace of body hair so that my bikini area now resembles that of a French porn star. Just in case. The to-die-for shoes and enthusiastic depilation are but elements of a routine with which I’ve been a stranger to for the past eleven months.It was then that I was thrust b
Pinakabagong kabanata
- Always Finding Mr Wrong Epilogue
- Always Finding Mr Wrong Chapter 79 - Made to Hold You
- Always Finding Mr Wrong Chapter 78 - I Love The Real You
- Always Finding Mr Wrong Chapter 77 - An Envelope
- Always Finding Mr Wrong Chapter 76 - Bloody Idiot
- Always Finding Mr Wrong Chapter 75 - The Love of His Life
- Always Finding Mr Wrong Chapter 74 - Told Scott What?
- Always Finding Mr Wrong Chapter 73 - I Can’t Say Goodbye
- Always Finding Mr Wrong Chapter 72 - Fire
