Fling, p.8
Fling, page 8
‘Colin, for God’s sake, you know you’re supposed to rinse them out and put them in the recycling bin,’ she said, for the millionth time.
‘Well, maybe if we ate less microwaveable dinners, we would produce less waste,’ Colin said, putting his plate in the microwave to reheat it and slamming it shut a little too loudly.
‘I just cooked that, why are you cooking it again?’ Tara asked, confused.
‘You didn’t cook it, you microwaved it. There’s a difference. It’s not healthy to microwave everything,’ he said, rambling.
‘Well, if you hate the microwave so much, then I’m buying an air fryer!’
‘An air fryer is just an Easy-Bake Oven for grown-ups! You can’t fry air, it’s a scam!’ he said.
‘OK, just so we’re clear, you’re annoyed that I’m not spending enough time cooking you dinner? Is this really the hill you want to die on?’ Tara said, trapping him.
‘It’s fine, forget it. I was just trying to break the cycle of microwave dinners every evening . . .’
Tara took another large gulp of wine and had a visible fury in her eyes. He saw the feminist switch flip within her. Her claws were officially out and Colin knew he had already lost the battle. But he still wanted to put up a decent fight. If only to prove he could.
‘Well, why don’t you start with the dishwasher cycle? Because you said you’d empty it this morning and it’s still not done!’ Tara began to rant. ‘You don’t lift a finger around here. I asked you to clean out the shed months ago and it’s still not done. And trying to get you to go to the bottle bank with the wine bottles is like pulling hens’ teeth!’
‘Oh, so it’s a game of tit-for-tat, is it?’ Colin said. ‘Well, I do plenty of other things around the house.’
‘Do you? You don’t do the laundry or the mopping or the dusting . . .’ she said, listing them out.
‘You never ask me to do those things!’
‘I shouldn’t have to ask.’
‘Oh that’s right, I forgot I’m supposed to be psychic. I’m supposed to just magically know what you want without you telling me,’ Colin said, throwing his hands up in the air.
‘I want you to want to do housework.’
‘WHY WOULD I WANT TO DO HOUSEWORK?’ Colin yelled, dumbfounded.
‘Nobody wants to do housework, Colin, but you could offer!’ Tara said.
‘No, because you’d prefer to complain about nobody helping you than ask someone for help. Typical martyr complex. Like asking Celine to put us in contact with that fertility specialist. You’re cutting off your nose to spite your face.’
‘HA!’ she laughed. ‘What’s Celine going to do? Give us a promo code for twenty per cent off egg retrieval? Give me a break.’
‘She’s an influencer, Tara. We should use her influence!’ Colin said, trying to make her see reason.
‘Having ten thousand followers doesn’t make you an influencer!’
‘Well, Jesus only had twelve followers and he had a fairly big influence!’
‘Oh look who’s suddenly a devout Catholic,’ Tara said, rolling her eyes.
‘There is no shame in asking for help. No man is an island.’
‘Yeah, well, every woman is. I don’t want any help from Celine and that’s the end of it.’
‘You know what, Tara? Green really isn’t your colour,’ Colin said.
‘Are you implying that I’m JEALOUS? OF CELINE? Is that what this whole fight is about? You’re annoyed I’m not a Yummy Mummy pushing out loads of babies and having your favourite dinner ready on the table as soon as you walk in?’ Tara said, shocked.
‘Ugh, you always do this. Stop turning everything into a feminist lecture,’ Colin sighed.
‘It’s hard not to when my manchild of a husband throws a tantrum over me not cooking his favourite din-dins!’
‘Anytime I offer to cook, you say no!’
‘That’s because the only meal you can make is chicken nuggets and chips!’
‘They’re chicken tenders, Tara, and you know that! You want me to do something and when I offer to do it, you say no. You’re a barrel of contradictions!’
‘Did you just call me a barrel?’ Tara said, appalled. ‘Well, seeing as I make more money than you, maybe you should have steak ready for me when I walk in the door. Now that I think of it, maybe I need a stay-at-home husband.’
‘Salary isn’t everything, Tara. I have investments. I work smart, not hard,’ Colin said, folding his arms.
‘Working smart? Is that what you call messing with Rory all day long? You know, I think he’s rubbing off on you too much. You’re starting to smell like toxic masculinity,’ Tara said.
‘Or maybe your lapdog just still has some bite left in him. Maybe I finally have the balls to address the elephant in the room,’ he said.
‘OK, so first I’m a barrel, now I’m an elephant?’ Tara said, misinterpreting his point.
‘You’re not the elephant! The elephant is the fact that we’re unhappy! I took out the two steaks so we could have a nice meal together! It’s like you’ve given up on everything! Dinner, sex, the future, everything. It’s like you’ve just checked out of this relationship.’
‘I told you I’m at a spiritual crossroads, I’m trying to realign with my destiny!’
‘I’m not letting you get away with those kinds of excuses any more, Tara. This isn’t going to be like the time you rear-ended my car in the driveway and blamed it on some planet!’
‘For the last time, Colin, Mercury was in retrograde! That’s hardly my fault!’
‘I’m not putting up with this nonsense any more. Your head might be in the stars Tara, but it’s about time someone brought you back down to earth!’
The microwave dinged to signal Colin’s food was ready.
‘Oh look, my dinner is ready. A lovely, lukewarm dinner for our lovely, lukewarm marriage,’ he said, taking it out of the microwave.
‘You know, men should be careful telling women to get back in the kitchen. That’s where we keep the knives. Who knows, maybe my destiny is to be the focus of a true-crime documentary,’ Tara said, taking a victory sip of wine as if the fight was over.
‘I’ll have dinner in the living room so my toxic masculinity doesn’t accidentally smother you,’ Colin said smugly.
‘Great. And while you’re at it, why don’t you sleep on the couch tonight so my pillow doesn’t accidentally smother you,’ she replied peevishly.
Colin gave her a passive-aggressive smile as he left the kitchen.
Chapter 8
Tara and Colin spent the rest of the evening avoiding each other in a somewhat theatrical manner. When one entered a room, the other left dramatically. It seemed the built-up resentment had finally come to a head. Colin hadn’t planned for things to escalate the way they did, but he was relieved that the underlying issues had finally been brought to the surface. He didn’t think steak would be the tipping point that drove them both over the edge, but then again, it wasn’t really about the steak.
Colin didn’t mind sleeping on the couch, although it was a little dusty. He did, of course, have the option of sleeping in the spare room but the idea scared him a little. It seemed like a permanent solution to a temporary problem. He feared if he moved to the spare room, he would never move back to his own bed with Tara. That wasn’t what he wanted. He loved her more than anything, after all. They were just in a rut and acknowledging that fact was the first step towards getting out of it. He grabbed a blanket from the closet and tucked himself in the couch.
As he lay there, he couldn’t help but replay the fight in his head. Colin always found himself thinking of snappy comebacks after an argument had ended. He was hopeless on the spot. Tara had a sharper tongue, that had always been the case. When they were younger and Colin knew he was losing a fight, he would grab her and kiss her to shut her up. It was the only way to win against her. It was his trump card, the hidden ace up his sleeve.
Any tension between them was always of a sexual nature. Whenever they fought, there was a certain chemistry to it, an erotic undercurrent charging below. They were always able to harness that power into passionate sex and get the release they both craved. But Colin felt as if Tara didn’t want to be grabbed and kissed any more. He wanted to make a move but her body language wasn’t communicating that she wanted it. Now they were both trapped in a prison of their own design, desperate for a release that would never come.
His mind drifted to Claire once again. He wondered if she was also unhappy in her marriage. The fact that she was on Fling meant she would probably be able to relate to his situation. Colin opened Fling on his phone and saw that he had an 82 per cent match with SANDRA, 35 – DUBLIN and she had sent him a message.
Sandra: Wow, 82% match. We must be perfect for each other hahahahaha
Hello????? Are you there??????
So . . . what are we?
Colin quickly unmatched with clingy Sandra. There was another message from a profile called MAGGIE, 43 – DUBLIN with whom he received a 62 per cent match with.
Maggie: Hi Jack. I’ve always wanted to have sex in a graveyard. Would you be into that?
Colin was horrified. He didn’t want to be judgemental but sex in a graveyard just seemed bonkers. He considered replying with a dad joke to be polite, but he couldn’t decide between ‘I hear people are dying to get in there’ or ‘Can’t we start with a graveyard shift?’ He eventually decided not to bother replying and hit the unmatch button once again.
After getting a 100 per cent match with Claire, it was hard to think about anyone else. He was an actuary, after all, and 100 per cent was the magic number in terms of probability, reporting, everything. But why hadn’t she replied to him? It was like he’d hit the lucky jackpot but was then thrown out of the casino. Wasn’t Claire at least curious about what made them a perfect match? Her silence was driving him crazy. Colin sighed and looked at the time.
11.06 p.m.
Time to call it. Claire obviously thought his opening line was stupid, or else maybe she just wasn’t taking Fling too seriously. Either way, Colin couldn’t help but feel his ego deflated by the lack of response. He got up and put his phone charging in the corner of the room. It was time to forget about Fling and get some sleep.
In the master bedroom, Tara was getting ready to put the day behind her. She wondered if tonight’s fight was a once-off or if it was the first nail in the coffin of her marriage. With Colin not in the bed beside her, she felt the emptiness now more than ever. Being alone was one thing but feeling alone within a marriage was a much deeper kind of isolation. She and Colin had been a couple for eighteen years. Was the youth of their relationship coming to an end? Was it normal for what began as a sexual awakening to evolve into sexual anaesthesia? These questions tormented her.
After applying some Sudocrem on a spot she felt lingering under her skin, she got into bed. As she lay there, she thought about the things Richard Mulligan had said on the radio. Over two hundred and fifty thousand people had downloaded Fling, so maybe lots of people felt the same unhappiness she did.
Maybe she wasn’t alone.
Tara realized she hadn’t deleted the app from her phone earlier. For a moment she considered keeping it for market research, but she figured there was no point. The Lads had already poached the account anyway, and now that she knew the quality of men on it, she didn’t want anything to do with it. She reached over to the bedside locker and grabbed her phone, eager to wipe all traces of Fling.
Just as her finger was hovering over the delete button, however, she paused for a moment and remembered some of the harsh things Colin had said. The cheek of him. The sheer audacity. Where did he get the nerve to treat her like that? She looked at the time on her phone.
11.11 p.m.
Although it was late and she was exhausted, she decided to spite him and have one last browse, as a secret act of defiance.
But when Tara opened Fling, she couldn’t quite believe her eyes. She looked in disbelief at the on-screen animation that read: 100% PERFECT MATCH.
JACK – 36, DUBLIN
That’s when it happened.
Something that made Tara feel more awake than she had been in years. Something that Tara had experienced only twice before. Something that Tara did not see coming.
Tara experienced a synchronicity.
She felt butterflies in her stomach, goosebumps appeared all over her arms, the back of her neck began to tingle and she felt that familiar feeling of déjà vu. It was the gut feeling that had always given her the inexplicable knowledge that she was in the right place at the right time with the right person. The spiritual compass that she had believed to be broken.
Until now.
She felt her heart palpitating as she clicked on his profile to read more. She read Jack’s bio and was immediately excited. He sounded like the man of her dreams, the kind of man she fantasized about. Then, she saw that Jack had sent her a message earlier that day.
Jack: Hey there, stranger
Tara’s heart started going ninety as she became completely flustered. What would she reply? It wasn’t just that Tara was out of the game, she had never actually been in the game in the first place. Colin had been her first everything, and she was terrified of saying the wrong thing. She rattled her brain and eventually decided to keep it simple. Jack would probably be asleep anyway.
Claire: A stranger’s just someone you haven’t met yet x
In the living room, Colin’s phone beeped. He got up off the couch and walked over to where his phone was charging. To his shock, the notification on his phone was from Fling and he immediately opened the app. He hoped more than anything that it would be Claire. He needed it to be her. Colin’s face lit up when he saw the message.
Not only had Claire replied to him but she had texted back in a flirtatious way. He looked at her profile again which now had the illuminated green light that he had desperately craved to see all day. She had sent the message less than a minute ago so he knew he had to reply immediately, before she went offline again. Colin got back on the couch and began to type his response, or rather, his new alter ego Jack’s response.
Jack: True I’m new to all this but I’m guessing a 100% match is a good place to start?
Claire: I know, 100% on a cheating test. There’s a joke in there somewhere . . .
Jack: I guess we’re good at being bad . . .
Claire: Well, we’ve certainly come to the right place then x
Jack: It seems so. I’m Jack
Claire: I’m Claire x
So what brings you to Fling?
Jack: To be honest, I only just joined today and I’m still figuring out how it all works.
Claire: Same here. I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.
Did you hear about it on the radio this morning?
Jack: I missed it actually. But I heard that Mary woman had a conniption haha
Claire: I know, I’m so glad I’m not a Mary haha #TeamJim
But to be honest, I was just about to delete Fling when you messaged me
Jack: Oh . . . I hope you aren’t still planning on deleting it . . .
Claire: Oh don’t worry, I’m not. I just meant you caught me right in time.
Jack: Phew! I would have missed out big time
Claire: Oh yeah?
Jack: I can already tell you’re a catch
Claire: Well, if you’re my 100% match, I guess that makes you a catch too x
Jack: I like the way you think
Claire: Haha if only my husband felt that way
Jack: Trouble in paradise?
Claire: More like paradise lost
Jack: Tell me about it. I feel like the only one in the marriage.
Claire: Same! And it’s like the more you do, the more you’re taken for granted.
Jack: EXACTLY!
Claire: And we’re expected to bend over backwards for them when they don’t do the same for us!
Jack: Right? It’s like, meet me halfway for God’s sake!
And then they act like you’re the problem.
Claire: Yes! Or make you think you’re crazy!
Jack: Ugh, that’s the worst!
Claire: Finally, someone who understands it. God, at times I thought I was the only one.
Sorry, I hope it doesn’t seem like I’m complaining too much!
Jack: No, I completely get it. It feels good to talk to someone else who’s unhappy.
Not that I’m happy you’re unhappy!
Claire: Haha yeah, it makes me a little less sad that I’m not the only one who’s unhappy.
Does that make sense?
Jack: Perfectly! It’s nice to feel a little less alone.
Claire: And if you think about it, if they appreciated us more, we wouldn’t feel the need to join Fling in the first place!
Jack: Yes! Like, there’s only so much we can take . . .
Claire: It’s like they want us to cheat . . .
Jack: We have no choice!
Claire: Haha. This is all so crazy.
We could pass each other on the street tomorrow and not even know it.
Jack: It’s mad, isn’t it? Probably for the best though
Claire: Why’s that?
Jack: Because I’d probably grab you on the street and kiss you
