It's been just over an hour since I left the restaurant and I am freshly showered, dressed in comfortable yoga pants and a tank top. A hot mug of matcha tea cradled in my hands, I am huddled on the arm chair as I look out at the city lights of Tokyo, contemplating my hasty exit. Looking down at my phone, I look over the numerous messages Tristan has left me.
*Where are you?*
*Why did you leave?*
*Call me. You're worrying me.*
*What's wrong? Talk to me.*
All those messages have gone unanswered, what can I say? Hey, I found out you were once engaged and now I'm sitting here, stewing away bitterly? No, it's much easier to ignore him and that's what I intend to keep doing. I realise that it's a tad dramatic and immature but too many thoughts are going through my head. Wearing the chocolat
