Dating an Angel by Abbey MacMunn
new ~ sale
Evie slumped on her sofa in her PJs. Two-thirds of a bottle of cheap red wine sat on the coffee table in front of her.
In true Bridget Jones style, All By Myself played on repeat in the background. She couldn’t be any more of a stereotypical, sad, lonely spinster if she tried.
She texted her angel best friend, Caleb, barely able to focus through her alcohol-infused brain. Can you come over?
Sorry, I’m on a date, came the response.
His date with another angel; she’d forgotten. She hoped it was going better than hers with the sleazeball warlock.
Evie put her phone down, reached for the bottle and took a swig. It didn’t help numb the pain, the guilt, or the self-pity.
Her phone tinged. Caleb again. What’s up?
She ignored it. The last thing she wanted to do was ruin his date as well.
Tears ran freely down her cheeks.
Five minutes later, could have been ten, she didn’t care, there was a knock on the window.
Caleb. “Can’t you use the bloody door like everyone else?”
“Are you all right? Can I come in?”
Evie plonked the wine bottle on the table, then swiped her cheeks and under her eyes. “I’m fine.” All By Myself reached its crescendo, as if to make her a liar.
Caleb rattled the window latch and it opened. He folded his magnificent, gold-tipped wings behind him and climbed in from the fire escape, eyeing the wine bottle and her no doubt dishevelled appearance. “You’re not.” He stepped over a pile of clothes as he came towards her. “It looks like a pigsty in here.”
“Who has time to tidy up when they’re saving souls?” she snapped. She didn’t usually mind his comments about the state of her flat, but for some reason, his remark grated on her nerves tonight. She blamed the cheap wine.
“I do,” came his virtuous reply.
“Urgh, whatever.” She glowered at him. “I thought you were on a date.”
“I was, but you didn’t reply to my text and I got worried.”
“You needn’t have bothered. I had another shitty date. I’ll get over it.”
“No, the lying, cheating snake of a warlock.”
“Do you want to talk about it? It might help.”
The kindness in his eyes showed no judgement. Evie caved.
Caleb sat beside her while she relived the whole sorry story; how the warlock seemed so nice and normal, then his wife had shown up, sobbing her heart out, accusing her of being a marriage-breaker.
Evie reached for the wine and drank from the bottle again.
Caleb raised an eyebrow but didn’t pass comment. Wise man. “It wasn’t your fault, Evie,” he said, his features full of sympathy. “You weren’t to know he was married.”
She refused to listen, hell-bent on drowning herself in a drunken stupor of self-pity. “Now I’ve gone and ruined your date as well because I’m a pathetic excuse for a would-be angel who’s destined to spend eternity alone.” A melancholic sob escaped her lips.