The Own Goal ✔️

Part 11

The worst part about getting home from holiday is the bloody washing!

I put the final load on and take a drink through to my lounge.
I open my texts.

I should delete the thread from Jack, I'm not the kind of person who keeps texts and emails. Read and delete is my style. I hate clutter on my phone.

We've exchanged three texts

Chelsea
I'm home. Flight was pretty good! Thank you for a lovely couple of weeks. Enjoy your last day. Chelsea xxx

Jack
Glad u got home ok. It was class thank u. JG xxx

Chelsea
Is this the queue jump number if I'm ever in Birmingham then? 😉 xxx

He never replied, and I do regret sending that last one, but I can't take it back. He saw it.

I cringe internally everytime I think about that last message. Then I feel even sillier because in truth I know that Jack probably didn't even give it a second glance.

***

I've been back at work for a week and a half, and the holiday feels ages ago now.
I stand in the salon doing my clients hair.

"You've got a lovely colour to you Chelsea, you're glowing"

I look in the mirror "ah thank you, I never normally catch the sun on my face"

Katie one of the juniors brings over a couple of teas. I thank her warmly, it's been go go go today. I take a large gulp of hot liquid.

"Ew Mrs Branch does your tea taste ok?" I ask my client. "Katie, did you rinse the cups after you washed them up?"

Everyone else in the salon assures me that theirs tastes fine.
Well mine doesn't, and I really wanted that drink.

I feel a bit.......weird.
I excuse myself and nip to the loo. I look at my reflection and tears prickle at my eyes.

I splash my face with cold water.
Why the fuck do I keep feeling so emotional? Am I actually crying over a cup of fucking tea?

I've had the post holiday blues before, but not like this.

I don't even think I'm missing Jack, even when I noticed an article online confirming he had said he was staying at Aston Villa, I just just smiled, like anyone happy for a friend would.
The photo the paper had used didn't even particularly ignite anything in me.

I went back out to the salon and tried to not overthink about what was niggling at me.

***

Friday night and the work girls are heading out for after work drinks.

"Come on Chels, it's not like you to refuse a night out" Dani one of the other stylists tries to persuade me.

"No, I'm sooooo tired, I just want to go home and watch crappy TV"

"Oh come on! Don't be boring!"

"No, please don't make me feel bad, I think I'm still tired from the holiday, too many late nights"

"Oh yeah?" Dani raises an eyebrow at me.

"Yeah" I smirk...... "But honestly, maybe I'm coming down with something. I don't feel great at all"

Reluctantly the girls give up and I head home.

I stop at the chippy and get myself my usual sausage and chips and a can of coke.
A Friday night in to myself, chippy dinner and trash TV is probably just what I need.

I sit down and start flicking through netflix looking for something to watch.
I absent mindedly start picking at my chips, then take a bite of my sausage.