I smiled knowingly. It was a terrible pick-up line, one I hated so much. 


“Why can’t he just go ahead and ask for my number?”

We talked briefly and he offered to drop me off at my hotel.

Seven weeks passed and I didn’t hear from him. 

I walked past him in Shoprite the other day, wondering if I still looked familiar and if he would ask for my number, if he would apologise for breaking my heart and if perhaps someday, I would want to marry him.
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