The fiction story

The Diary of the Espresso Woman. Part 13.


So I promised you an update about my love life. That’s much more interesting than my professional life (if only I had one!), right? Well, let’s see.

There’s been a while after that first surprise weekend when my boyfriend came to see me. Now he’s been working in London for two months and I’m here at home. He asked me attend the big company anniversary party with him and I can’t wait to go. He was supposed to come home before the party but that hasn’t happened. I don’t even know why.

And then there’s Catherine. His colleague (well, a few months ago we all worked together here in the same company, so I know her, too) in London. When she was sent to work in the London office she needed a place to stay and somehow she ended up sharing an appartement with my boyfriend! I don’t know how.

So I do know that have my love life is almost non-existent. I’m in a relationship but I live alone. And my boyfriend is not living alone. He has got a great job and a career ahead of him. I am unemployed and I have started to doubt my career path.

How are things between us? How can things be in a long distance relationship? How can things be when I have days and nights to think about him and he has got a lot of work and the metropol around him. He has got the wine nights with his live in charismatic colleague, I drink my glass of red alone.

To tell you the truth I don’t know if they do drink wine together. I haven’t asked and my man is not much of a talker. When I ask him what he does after work he says that he goes to the gym and then goes home and goes to bed. His bed, I hope.

I’ve been finding myself quite lonely, to tell you the truth.


My phone rings. It’s him, my lovely man!



“So how are things?”



Every time we talk we still find it hard to start the conversation. It’s like we’re strangers or old aquaintances at the best. Like I said he’s not very talkative and when he was living here we didn’t have to talk that much. We had other things to do.

I know what you’re thinking – not that! I mean, we did that, too.

Anyway, when you’re with someone you kind of interact without words, too. I’m not the internet generation so I hate to communicate via any device. It’s like I hear the person but I don’t fully get him. Even while skyping when I can actually see the person. It’s like something is missing. Maybe it’s the aura that’s missing. Maybe the soul of a person gets lost via all this intermediation. Maybe it’s just me. Or maybe it’s beacuse we had not been together for that long before he went to London.

“So, you’re coming to the party, right?” He asks.

Why wouldn’t I?

“Yes, sure. Why?”

“They just want the final confirmation by now. That’s all.”

“Yeah, unless I don’t find anything to wear…”

“It’s ok, I hear that many people are coming alone. So if you can’t come, it’s ok.”

“I was joking. Of course I can come. Why wouldn’t I?”

“Very good! Good then…”

What the hell is going on? Why on earth would I not go? What do I have here that keeps me from going? Another failed job interview? A lonely bird on my balcony who needs feeding? Well, the winter is over, so birds do not even come to my balcony looking for food any more…

Why is he talkng like that?

The pause keeps going. He is not saying anything. I do not want to say anything.

I hang up. I’ve never done that.


My heart is beating strong and I feel sick. Did I overreact?

I can’t help thinking that this must be about Catherine. He doesn’t want me to go so he can be with Catherine! What else can it be? I know that woman. Remember what I told you about her?

I can clearly not think straight. I am mad, hurt and tired.

I grab my coat and storm out.


If it were a movie, it would be raining outside and a strong cold wind would be blowing. It would be dark and miserable.

But it’s not a movie. It’s my so called life and the sun is shining outside. The city is living it’s life and people with sunglasses are walking their way.

You can see the most beautiful cars in the streets. The ones that stay in the garage for most of the year and only come out for our short summer. Some even have rooftops down.

Children are eating ice cream, women have water bottles in their hands.

I see a man in a smart suit with a big bunch of red roses. There’s only one person who could get those flowers – a beautiful woman somewhere…

Like a slap in the face. I shouldn’t be this self-absorbed. Someone has a life even though I don’t. Big deal.

I just want to shrug off all the stupid feelings I have.

“Think, woman, think. Use your brain, not your heart. Don’t go with the impulse. Just calm down and look at it from another side (who’s side?) You’re an espresso woman, for God’s sake!”

This is what I tell myself.

I stop walking and walk in the nearby cafe. A good coffee always helps. Always. I’ll sit down and think this over.

I place my order and am looking for a good table to sit down when I see him. My downstairs neighbour! He’s sitting by the window all alone. Well, actually he is with a dog.

I walk straight up to his table and ask if I can join hin. Them.

To be continued next Monday.



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