Our unlucky-in-love girl sees Will reduced to an emotional wreck after she braves the Beast from the East with a mate
Somehow Will becomes this weird, whiny cry-baby on a level of crazy Tinderella hasn't seen before - and our girl is legit freaked out by him
SOMETHING weird’s happening to Will. You know he was this epic guy always up for lolz and sexy time?
Well, now he’s that guy’s weird, needy cousin. And he cries a lot.
It all started with the Beast from the East. When Snowmaggedon hit, his trains limped to a halt and we had to cancel a date.
No biggie but the night we should have cosied up he texted to check I was OK – and then utterly lost his mind at my response.
This is how our exchange went, starting with his breezy howdy . . .
“Hey babe, what you doing? Home and warm, I hope.”
“Actually I’m in the pub!”
There was a few minutes’ delay followed by: “Oh. Who’s braving the Beast with you?”
I replied: “Jamie T’s come up from Brighton coz he’s worried about trains tomorrow.”
“Oh cool. Wait . . . how’s he gonna get home tonight then?”
“He’s not, hon. He’s staying at mine. That’s why he’s come up!”
“WTF? Why does he have to stay the night?”
“I told you, because he has a meeting in the morning and he’s worried about trains.”
“Can you call me please?”
“Er, no, I’m in the pub with Jamie and it would be rude to leave him on his own. What’s up?”
“Seriously, you’re not going to call me?”
“I’ll call you in the morn, hon.”
Cut to next morning and Will isn’t answering my calls. By lunchtime, I’m panicking so I text him: “Baby, can we talk about whatever’s up pls? Can you get to mine after work or are trains still stuffed?”
Two minutes later, it’s read . . . two hours later, he replies.
“OK, I can be at yours for 7.”
The second I open the door, he barges twitchily past me.
Turning to face me with his hands on his hips, the door is barely shut before he says: “Did you sleep with him?”
WHAT?
The levels of crazy at play here are so daunting it takes me a moment to compute.
“Of course NOT!”
MOST READ IN FABULOUS
And then he crumples. His face kind of falls in on itself and he starts howling as tears course down his cheeks.
I should go to him, reassure him, do something to comfort him. But I’m so freaked out by the stranger before me I just stare at him.
Who is this weirdo in my lounge? And can I get my sexy, sane boyfriend back now please?