The Bucket List to Mend a Broken Heart Read Online Free

I puff my cheeks out and prod the bags under myeyes, but it doesn’t change anything. All I see when I look in the mirror is the woman that Joseph dumped.
    I’ve desperately wanted him to see the error of his ways and come back to me, but what on earth would he think of me and the flat if he did?
    I suddenly know what I’ve got to do.
    I walk over to the kitchen and grab a pair of scissors out of the knife rack. I scoop my hair up and hold itas if I’m putting it into a loose ponytail.
    Positioning myself back in front of the mirror, I take a deep breath before taking the scissors up to my hair and snipping. I wince slightly as the blades squeak as they cut through, but it only lasts a second and then I’m left clutching nine inches of my hair.
    It’s as if I’ve suddenly realised that I’ve got to take control of this post-break-up existence.I’ve already got one pretty major obstacle in the way of Joseph and me getting back together – him – so I don’t need anything else.
    I look back down at the hair in my hand and laugh. It’s probably the craziest thing I’ve ever done, but somehow it seems like the sanest decision I’ve made in weeks.

Chapter Two
    Four weeks exactly since I was dumped and twenty-two hours since I hacked off my hair.

    Waking up to my new hairdo this morning was a bit of a shock. I’ve had long hair my whole life, or at least I would have done if my sister Jill hadn’t got bored of her Dolls World Styling Head and chopped my hair instead. But aside from that unwanted pixie cut when I was six, my hair has alwayshung like a shiny mane far down my back and sometimes skimming my bum. So when I sleepily went to scrape it back, I wasn’t expecting that I’d have to hunt around for it.
    I can just about make a ponytail out of my new hair, which is marginally better than the scarecrow look I have when it’s down.
    It might have been symbolic – cutting away the dead ends of my hair as if cutting away the dead endsof my life – but I hadn’t really thought through the consequences for my appearance.
    Thank goodness it’s Saturday and I’ve got time to get it sorted.
    I manage to nab my hairdresser’s last available appointment, and luckily for me it’s a freezing March day, so I can legitimately tuck my scrappy bob under a beanie.
    ‘Abi!’ says Carly, my hairdresser, as she walks across the floor. ‘You’re notdue another cut already, are you?’
    ‘No, but I, er, needed a bit of a change.’
    She puts a silky black robe over me and I follow her over to a comfy black chair.
    My last haircut was the weekend that Joseph broke up with me. I feel foolish thinking that I’d sat in this very chair telling Carly how amazing my boyfriend was, only for him to end things with me hours later.
    She pulls off my hat andgasps.
    ‘What the hell happened?’ she shrieks. She starts pulling clumps of my hair up and letting it fall back down.
    ‘I needed a change,’ I say again, feeling a bit like a broken record.
    ‘You did this to yourself?’ she asks in disbelief.
    ‘Uh-huh.’
    ‘Whilst sober?’
    ‘Yep,’ I say, embarrassed.
    She looks at my reflection in the mirror as if searching my eyes for an answer.
    ‘You broke up withyour boyfriend,’ she guesses, gasping again.
    I pull my lips into my mouth and bite down on them, trying to stop the tears from falling. I can already feel my eyes glistening.
    ‘Well, don’t worry. We’re going to have you looking hotter than ever. You know, bobs are bang on-trend,’ she smiles, and as I listen to her I start to feel the need to cry ebb away. ‘I think with a little bit taken offthe front here to shape it, and maybe putting a few layers in here, it’ll look really good.
    ‘I’m just gutted that I wasn’t the one to do the initial snip. I’ve wanted to change your hair for years and you’ve never let me take more than an inch off, and the one time you want something drastic done, you ruin the fun for me.’
    ‘Sorry,’ I say,