He asked me how old I am. When I returned the query, he said, "Um, not 26."
He's 35 and he has a Career. He is on the Executive Path. He owns property. He likes good wine and good food.
He's basically the anti-ex-boy.
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The ex-boy now spends his weekends getting drunk and calling, texting, and emailing me incessantly. Thirty texts last Friday. 19 voicemails this morning.
I've told him thrice not to contact me again, and now I just have to take it. But more on that later.
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We slept under the stars on his upstairs patio after a hilarious baking disaster.
We cuddled while the fog rolled in over the courthouse while watching an outdoor screening of The Mummy.
We spent an entire day in bed, with ice cream sundaes and champagne.
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The whole time we're sharing a bottle of wine, I hear the phone buzzing, over and over again, but I'm in bed with the new boy, and we're just getting to know each other.