Best Served Cold (Part 1)

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Other  |  House: The Imaginarium
First person story of a man desperate to get back with his ex after mistreating her for years, realizing where he's gone wrong and willing to do just about anything to make up with her.

Submitted: October 15, 2018

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Submitted: October 15, 2018



Kayleigh looked at me from the dancefloor; she wasn’t subtle about it either - sipping her straw and glaring right at me – through the masses of people dancing around her. Although I am well aware of this, I remained with my friends in the shitty booth we rented for Mikes birthday, not making a big deal out of it. Out of the 5 of us, Mike is the only one pretending to enjoy this cheap champagne he insisted on buying because ‘He’s only 30 once’. I wince after every mouthful and try finishing it as quickly as I can n order to buy a proper drink afterwards to wash the taste out.

Mike is a slight pain to know personally, he’s a good guy but if he’s having fun, no one else is – it’s all about him – and tonight is no exception. All Mike is interested in is being as pissed as he can be and take a girl home. He is very much still living the life of an 18 year old – the rest of us are there because we have to be really, not at all interested in the utter shite Mike is talking or trying to ‘pull’. At the same time as we all cringe, finishing the bottle of champagne, I lower the glass to find Kayleigh still looking in my direction. I haven’t referred to her as ‘Kay’ since we split up a few months ago and this is the first time I’ve actually seen her since. Kayleigh and me were together for just shy of five years and it has now become the classic case of ‘Not knowing what I had until it’s gone’.

At first, I was doing similar to what Mike is currently doing – drinking, drugs, looking for any girl that’s willing enough to let me sleep with her, just loving life and living for the weekend really. Once that short lived phase ended, I realised just how lonely I was in comparison to how it was like when I was with her – I realised all the things I was missing out on and just how much I took her for granted at the time. (I don’t think anyone ever does take a step back and appreciate just how great their partners are for no reason at all). I will hold my hands up though and I’ll be the first to admit, Kayleigh could do ten times better than me. I was a complete bastard at times and she didn’t deserve any of it. I’m just not entirely sure if she’s supposed to be giving off any signal to me – if she wants me to talk to her or something. The absolute dribble that Mike is talking becomes distorted as I focus on Kayleigh and who exactly she is with – I can’t see any other lads with her, it just seems to be her and the girls – which is surprising as I did hear a rumour that Kayleigh has been fucking a different lad.

Tom pulls my head closer to his to subtly shout something to me over the repetitive club music being played;

“Mate, just go over and talk to her… You haven’t taken your eye off her since we sat in here, Mike will understand surely! And if he doesn’t, then fuck him. The past is in the past now and she realises that – you know what you did wrong before and the only thing you can do is build on that!”


“She’s been staring at me for the past 15 minutes or so, I don’t know if she means anything by it, I tried apologising and getting her back last month over messages – but she completely ignored me… She looks good though…”


“Go over now…what’s the worst that she can say? Tell you to fuck off? And that would be your answer, the end of it… at least you’d be out of your misery of wondering what COULD happen.”

With Tom saying this, I give him a slight nod and stand up to start making my way towards Kayleigh. She instantly notices me coming towards her and says something to one of the girls she’s with and her friend proceeds to move away – leaving Kayleigh by herself in a small space on the dancefloor with nobody else around her. The closer I get, the more nervous I become, intimidated and embarrassed, I gently squeeze past drunken people throwing their arms around everywhere. My head seems to be flooded with all the dickhead memories I have of myself… what I did to her. I sheepishly make my way to the area where she’s stood and still have no idea what I’m about to say. By the time I’m confronted with her face to face, I am a nervous wreck and lean in to talk – with not a clue on how I this is going to sound I just switch my brain off and start talking – hoping I make some sense.

“Kay… I don’t know if you got all my messages a while ago, but I meant everything I said… This isn’t the time or place for me to be saying this but it still stands. I know I messed up and was a complete dick but believe me; I’d do anything to make it up to you…”

I called her ‘Kay’ on purpose in order to hopefully make her see that I want things to go back to the way they were – She doesn’t respond and just dances to me. She knows she has me in the palm of her hand and makes me suffer as I watch her dance in front of me… as all her friends watch from the sidelines. It’s a bit humiliating to be honest but if I walk away now, I would probably blow my chances of ever getting things back to the way they were before. I awkwardly bob my head to whatever music is playing in order to fit in without looking too awkward.

I made an ass out of myself bobbing like a fucking jellyfish for a couple of minutes before Kay clutched the back of my head and just said;

“It’s done now… I’m just happy… and I think you’ve changed…”

I have no idea what these cryptic words mean but she could tell me to do anything and I’d do it at this point. She leans in towards me and wraps her arms over my shoulders; I give her a kiss on the forehead like I used to – to hopefully ignite something in her. I glance over at the booth I was sat at as I forgot all about my friends – they’re still there, Tom supervising my current situation and the rest looking bored at whatever speech Mike is giving. Kay takes hold of my face with both hands and says;

 “Let’s go.”

She quickly says bye to her friends and takes me by the hand as we make our way off the dancefloor. I feel like the luckiest guy on the planet – I get a second chance with the girl I wholeheartedly love. It did occur to me that this all seems too straightforward and makes me wonder if there’s really anything in this- I keep imagining the guy she’s been fucking to find us and beat the shit out of me because, as I mentioned – this seems too simple after everything I did to her. I never hit Kay or physically abused her but what I did can be considered as just as bad – I was so paranoid to the point where I forced her to delete her social media accounts and knocked her confidence to a point where she was scared to leave me – she believed I was the only guy that would want her. In reality, she is ten times the person I am and I’ll forever be ashamed of the way I treat her. Through sheer intimidation and lack of self confidence, Kay stayed in most days whilst I went to work and was petrified to even voice her own opinion. I now am disgusted with myself and realise that she has every right to tell me I don’t deserve her – but for some reason, she’s not doing – we’re getting in a taxi to my flat.

I give Tom a rushed message saying I’ve left with Kay and I’ll ring him tomorrow. I’m supposed to be out for Mike’s birthday but right now, I’d give my left arm to have another chance with Kay. I keep trying to make conversation in the taxi but she’s having none of it and keeps drunkenly singing some shit songs that were being played earlier – I let her get on with it and am just thankful that my flat isn’t far from here.

“Six pound fifty please pal!”

The taxi driver shouts as he reluctantly unlocks the doors, cautious in case we run off without paying. I scramble through my change but in that much of a rush to get Kay home, I offer him a ten pound note and order him to keep the change. I fiddle with my keys in the door handle before finally getting it open and offer her inside. Still, without a word, Kay walks inside and takes her shoes off as she heads for the bedroom. I feel guilty if I sleep with her in her drunken state and with the given circumstances. If this is just a drunken fuck, I’m not sure I want any part of it; I want her back for good.

“Kay, are you… are you okay? Are you sure you want to do this?”

I’m still not given an answer; all I can hear is her open my bedroom door and the mattress crumple as she slumps on the bed. As I mentioned before, in this situation, I would do anything she so asked of me if it meant another chance with her, so I reluctantly walk upstairs, unbuttoning my shirt as I do so. I enter the room and am greeted by her laid under the covers already undressed as her dress is thrown to the floor. I’m not really comfortable with this situation but I was hardly going to kick her out of my bed. I’m just worried at the lack of conversation, something doesn’t seem quite right but I intend to persevere and see what she has to say in the morning. Still, without speaking, she climbs on top of me and digs her nails into my chest and tears down towards my stomach. It hurts like fuck, but I let her do it as I move my hands all over her body, knowing what she likes. I reach out to my bedside drawer to frantically look for a condom before she once again slams her nails into my skin, stopping me from doing anything; she shut the drawer and tells me to ‘Shhh’. This noise is the most conversation I have had from her since leaving the club. It’s slightly worrying me how quiet she is but I don’t really want to question it too much at this moment in time.

Afterwards, Kay falls asleep straight away. I get out of bed and get her a glass of water for the morning as that’s all she craves when she wakes up hungover. Before doing so, I take a look in the bathroom mirror at the state of my chest – she’s broke the skin and drawn blood. I giggle slightly to myself as I open the packet of cigarettes I bought earlier in the night – I only smoke when I drink and this night out got cut short, so I still have plenty left. I discard the almost full packet in the bowl of the sink and sit on the edge of the bath, lighting a cigarette and reflecting back on tonight. It almost seems forced how adamant Kay was at coming back and judging from what people have told me, how happy she was when we split up because of how controlling I was, how scared and intimidated I made her fee, I don’t understand why she’s come back so eagerly. You can over think something all night and still get to the same conclusion so with my idea being that I will talk to her about where I stand in the morning, I decide to throw my still – burning cigarette down the drain and climb into bed, deciding on the idea of quizzing her in the morning – and frantically apologising once again.



I wake up early considering i was out last night and for the first couple of seconds, I struggle to remember what happened. Upon realising my situation a few seconds later, I turn my head to realise Kay isn’t there. She hasn’t touched the water I brought up for her and I can’t see her bag, phone or anything else of hers anywhere. I check my phone to check for any messages – nothing from her, just one from Tom asking what happened. I decide to ring him.

“Tom! How are you hanging this morning? You seemed fine when I left but don’t know if you carried on drinking, what did Mike say?”


“Yeah fine mate, here listen… I spoke to one of Kayleighs friends last night, they told me that she absolutely despises you… can’t stand the sight of you. So… she say anything… do anything?”

I explain to Tom what happened and presume that it’s old news that Kay hated me – she had every right to but now I think we’re getting back on track – I’ll call round at her house later once I’ve had food. I put the phone down and lie back on the bed, massaging my forehead trying to suppress my undoubtedly, ever – growing headache. I open my eyes and glance over my room to see if there’s even a note or something she left – nothing.

I see something out of the corner of my eye smudged onto my full length mirror propped in the corner of the room. I can’t make it out from this angle so I pull the cord for the light and walk opposite the mirror to get a view. The ‘smudge’ is red lipstick and the red lipstick is joined together to form letters that read;


H.I.V +


I giggle to myself as initially, I wonder what the fuck this is to do with anything. Realisation kicks in and I feel physically sick. A million thoughts, questions and feelings enter my head as I remember her being sure she didn’t want to use a condom.

 Was this a plan all along?

 That’s her big payback on me for being a bastard?

To give me fucking HIV?

Is she just lying to make me feel this way?

I remember what Tom said on the phone, something about her still hating me. This could be revenge? If it is genuine, this is fucking disgusting; and if this is a lie to hurt me; she’s fucking succeeded in doing so. I struggle to comprehend the entire situation and try ringing her phone – she still has my number blocked from months ago. Thoughts fly into my mind and back out again of booking an appointment with the doctor, to going round to her house… I just don’t know what to do in this situation. After frantically running around for twenty minutes or so, I begin to calm down and decide to light a cigarette again, this time pacing around my bedroom with it lit in my mouth. Any traces of a hangover I had this morning have certainly fucked off now as I attempt to contain myself and think as logically as I can about this situation. I worry myself to a point of almost weeping, sat on the end of my bed. I pick up my phone to ring Tom to come round – I’ll explain everything to him – he’ll help me. Upon unlocking my phone, I realise I have a text from an unknown number;


‘You really think after what you did to me that I would take you back? You broke me down and make me feel so shitty about myself. Five miserable years I spent with you, believing you that I was nothing, I couldn’t get better and that I would never amount to anything in my life. Look at you now, you disgust me. Now I’ve got what I wanted out of you, I hope I have made your life just as miserable as you made mine – don’t come round to the house by the way. I’m not staying there.


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