7

I turned around to see a man smiling at me. He had brown eyes, a scruffy beard, freckles, and he was wearing a tight white vest paired with black track pants and Nike Airmax trainers. I furrowed my eyebrows, sure that he’d got the wrong person, because there was no way that he would be speaking to me.

“Can I help you?” I asked sheepishly, coughing.

“I saw you coming in across the mall, and I couldn't help but notice how beautiful you looked,” he said coyly.

I could feel myself flushing bright pink. I didn’t even know what to say.

“Ehhh,” I mumbled. “Thank you.”

“I was wondering if I could take your number?” he smiled huskily.

“I don't really give my number out to strangers,” I said quickly, convinced that I was embarrassing myself and making myself look like a fool.

“If we get to know each other, we won't be strangers,” he grinned flirtatiously. “You think I'm gonna let a pretty girl like you just walk away?”

I was taken aback.

I wasn't really used to attention like this…

Probably because I hardly left my own damn house.

I remembered the way that guys would approach me like this when I was in university, but that was so many years ago.

I didn't even know how to talk to people without making a fool of myself anymore.

He was handsome, I’d give him that…

“Well?” he smiled. “What d'you say then?”

“You seem nice and all, but I have a husband,” I mumbled awkwardly.

“No way!” he said in disbelief. “You look far too young to be married.”

“I'm twenty-eight,” I admitted.

“I'm thirty,” he grinned. “I guess I should've noticed the wedding ring on your finger.”

“I guess you should have,” I mumbled.

He let out a cough, looking embarrassed because he’d just been rejected. I couldn’t help but to let out a giggle. It had been so long since I’d been hit on, and this was amusing me. If I was so fat and ugly according to Bruce, then why was I getting hit on?

“Come off it, Riccardo,” came a deep voice from behind me, causing me to jolt upwards. “Leave the poor girl alone.”

“I was just having a bit of fun, man,” ‘Riccardo’ grinned. “I lost you in Primark. Ended up wandering off.”

I found myself scratching my arm awkwardly, as the Riccardo man and his friend continued to talk to each other.

“Anyway, I need a shit,” Riccardo sighed. “I'll be in the toilets.”

He turned on his heel, and I could hear the man behind me let out a chuckle as his friend walked away.

“You'll have to forgive my friend. I know he can come on a bit strong,” he laughed.

I couldn’t help but to let out a giggle as he said this. For some reason, this man's voice sounded incredibly familiar to me. I could feel the goosebumps rise on my back…

And there was only one man who'd ever been able to have that effect on me…

I drew out a deep breath, my heart hammering against my chest, as I slowly willed my body to move as I turned around to face this mysterious man. Wanting to see who it was. The face behind the voice…

And when I did, it felt like I was about to collapse.

My surroundings blurring around me.

Not being able to believe my damn eyes…

“Sofia?!” Arturo shouted.

“Arturo?!” I gasped.

I could feel my chest constrict on me, as I clapped my hands to my face in terror.

This wasn’t happening.

This wasn’t fucking happening…

4

arturo

Sofia Martinez.

My ex-girlfriend.

I loved this woman…

I loved her with all my heart.

All those years ago…

In university.

We were an unbreakable couple.

We'd meet in secret…

She had strict, overbearing parents.

Meaning that we would both have to bunk off of our lectures, just to spend the day with each other…

She scratched her arm awkwardly, as my eyes burned into hers.

Unable to believe that this was actually happening.

Unable to believe that this wasn’t a fucking dream.

She was actually here…

Standing in front of me.

And that was screwing with my mind to the point of no fucking return.