You Grow Girl

Copyright: ©Belle Henderson 2023 Tamarillas Press All Rights Reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopy, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission from the author. This book is a work of fiction. All characters, locations, businesses, organisations and situations in this publication are either a product of the author’s imagination or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or circumstances, is purely coincidental. Cover image: ©Canva Cover design: ©Belle Henderson Contents Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 Chapter 11 Chapter 12 Chapter 13 Chapter 14 Chapter 15 Chapter 16 Chapter 17 Chapter 18 Chapter 19 Chapter 20 Chapter 21 Chapter 22 Chapter 23 Chapter 24 Chapter 25 Chapter 26 Chapter 27 Pick up a freebie Not The Plus One - Chapter 1 Other books by Belle From the author Belle Henderson Chapter 1 Events happened in very quick succession. Like watching a set of dominoes come tumbling down. It took only one to fall and then everything else followed shortly after. Except watching dominoes is quite satisfying and this was more like watching your constipated dog strain for a poo then end up shitting out a pair of your best knickers. It was painful, a bit funny (if it wasn’t happening to your dog) and shocking all at the same time and the worst thing was, I couldn’t do anything to stop it. The absolutely mortifying thing was, this was my life. Brandon and I had been together for almost ten years, we had a house together in a trendy location in Coolsbay, well it was his house and I helped him pay the mortgage. His parents gave him a substantial deposit when we moved back home but made sure that my name wasn’t on the mortgage or the deeds. I know, I still kick myself about this now. He worked in TV, his dream job after studying at university and I think his parents persuaded him to buy a house here to stop us from moving to Bristol, where the TV company was based. Instead, he commuted an hour and a half each day but it didn’t seem to bother him, said it gave him time to think. Maybe we should have moved to Bristol because his plentiful thinking time has led me to where I am today. On Fridays, Brandon and I would get a takeaway, usually Pizza, and on Saturdays we would often go out for a meal along the harbour at one of the fancy restaurants, then afterwards on to a bar for a few drinks. Well, often a few too many drinks which on occasion resulted in drunken fuelled arguments neither of us could much remember. Sometimes we met with friends, sometimes we didn’t. It was nice. Life was good, comfortable and easy until it wasn’t, well not for me anyway. ♣ ♣ ♣ ‘Do you think we’re a good match?’ he asked, with his back to me as he continued to wash up, not looking back. ‘Of course, the perfect match. Why do you ask?’ I tilted my head, letting my brown curly hair tickle the side of my face. I wondered why he still had his back turned to me? Why he didn’t look at me when he asked, or when I answered? I stared at his muscled forearms as they continued to flex as he washed up in our/his Belfast ceramic sink. His cheek length dark hair which was once very long and wavy, swished in time to his movement. We were, at least I thought we were, a very good match. We met at university in Manchester and we were both studying media, me music and him TV. Even though we were from the same town, we hadn’t properly met until then. I’d seen him about, of course, as Coolsbay is a very small town. He was very easy on the eye with full lips, thick, long surfer-dude hair, dark brown eyes and a strong, athletic build. I’d never had the guts to strike up a conversation with him here, so, when he came up to me in the student bar on the first night of university saying that he recognised me, I was ecstatic. Within two weeks, after many a drunken, deep and meaningful conversation, and plenty of hungry student sex, we were a firm couple. There’s always that one couple that get together in freshers’ week and end up staying together forever. An unbreakable bond, fused by suddenly becoming a grownup and finding out that you want exactly the same things. You’ve definitely met your drinking match but also your soul mate. It was meant to be. That was us. Or at least I thought it was. ‘Oh, I don’t know, just wondered. Forget I said anything, Pudding,’ he said. ‘Okay.’ But I couldn’t forget. For the next week I badgered him about it, probably a little too much. He kept saying it was nothing, I was being silly. Until one day, when he was drying the dishes, he said, ‘I’ve bought tickets for a round the world trip.’ My eyes fell to his forearms again and I watched as the muscles tensed and untense with each wipe of the cloth. My heart was in my mouth. He’d bought us tickets to travel the world together, could life get any better? But what about my job? I guess I’d have to tell my dickhead of a boss to do one, that wouldn’t be so hard. Enjoyable even. I’m PA to the senior manager in one of the biggest banks in town and I loathe him. My mind started to wander, fantasising about the many countries we’d visit and the tasty cuisine and scenery we’d get to discover. This was perfect, just what we needed. A bit of adventure away from the boredom of