The One with the Hen Weekend

She’d given the usual spiel: it’s not you, it’s me, and all that. And it was actually pretty true. There was nothing particularly wrong with Darren, for all his oddities and irritating habits; Cleo was right – if Daisy loved him, really loved him, they’d be charming, not irksome. But there was no casual way of informing the man you were dumping that he was being chucked because you still dreamed of one day having someone who made your whole body feel like it was smiling.

‘Okay then.’ Despite his words, Darren looked in no rush to leave. He started towards Daisy, holding his hand forward almost as if he was going to touch her, but thought better of it at the last minute. ‘I’d like us to stay friends, Daisy, if that’s okay?’

‘Sure thing,’ Daisy lied. She’d give it a few months and then she’d subtly delete him from her Facebook friends’ list. The key was to add him to a limited list for a little while beforehand, so he got used to not really seeing her updates on his feed. Sadly she’d had to do this many times before … ‘But, in the circumstances, I don’t really think it’s appropriate for you to come to Nora and Harry’s wedding in December. You understand.’

Darren’s face crumpled a little further, but he rallied like a man: Daisy appreciated that about him. ‘Sure. I understand. Yeah.’

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