Cupid's Contract

When Adam Dumped Eve...

***

The first thing Eve was aware of, that horrible Saturday morning, was the pain in her stomach. It awoke her, spasming her into consciousness, like an alarm without a snooze button. The second thing was the uncomfortable texture of her mouth. Sticky, like hot tar in the summer sun, her tongue fat and flaccid.

The third, and most alarming of all, was the crippling realisation that she had been dumped.

Again.

The sheer intensity of the thought forced her upright. What had happened last night? In fact, what had happened to her relationship, and how had it all gone so very wrong?

Friday had shown no hint of the doom ahead. The entire day had been cloudy and filled with drizzle, but this was misread as a symptom of the location, rather than her lacklustre romance. Punctual as always, Adam had arrived at eight o'clock on the dot, in his overpriced shiny car, beeping the horn from the safety of its dry interior. Her clutch doubling as an umbrella, she had run to the passenger side, all ladylike elegance forgotten in the battle to protect her fresh blow-dry.

Over a delicious bottle of wine and a large bowl of disappointing salad (dressing on the side of course), the conversation had flowed. He spoke about work, she nodded politely. She told him about the latest workplace water cooler gossip, that one of the trainee staff members had been headhunted by a competing firm, and he had commented on such an acquisition. He asked her if she wanted dessert, she politely declined.

At no point had Eve feared her position in danger, that her suitable boyfriend of six months was planning on cutting the cord. Had she known, she would have had the steak. And two desserts. At least.

As they waited for the valet to bring around his car, she had begun to shiver in the cool night air and he had wrapped an arm around her, pulling her firmly to his chest.

"Cold, babe?"

"Not anymore." She had smiled and snuggled into his chest, his suede peacoat like a large, fashionable pillow. She had turned her face up to his and he had leaned down and kissed her on the cheek.

The cheek. Cripes, he had kissed her on the cheek. Much to her annoyance, Adam had never been shy about groping her in public, but when she had actually been looking for some PDA he had kissed her.

On.

The.

Cheek.

She should have known then. He may as well have worn a sign around his neck, declaring himself 'single'. She had been oblivious, and had clambered into the car without another thought, comfortable in the bland performance.

On the drive home he had been quiet, but Adam always was when he was driving. He was enamoured with his car, his stupid, precious car, and would rather drive in silence than risk a casual conversation and a chip in his fresh paint job.

She had turned towards the window, enjoying the stifled environment after the bustling restaurant. She had pressed her face up against the glass, smudging its crystal clear veneer and risking Adam's wrath as she watched her breath fog up the cool surface. When she was a little girl, she would draw shapes in the condensation, little love hearts with her initials in them, or her crush's last name. She resisted the temptation to do the same now. She could only imagine the slap on the wrist she would get if Adam caught her. Baaaaaabe, I'm going to have to polish the whole window now.... She smirked at that. Adam loved polishing things.

She was still smirking as he pulled up outside of her house. The space in front of her little townhouse was empty but, instead of parking, Adam came to a stop in the middle of the road. He flicked on his hazard lights and turned towards her, a droll look on his handsome face.