Date night, naturally. What else indeed.
Hadn’t been able to weedle out of Darling the subject of the long conversation with Darling’s ex fiancé. Tried many times – casually on lunchtime check-ins, in the middle of afterglow in bed (thereafter short lived).
Even tried element of surprise first thing in the AM. “I had the craziest dreams last night. Sea-serpents and aubergines. How did you sleep? That conversation with Ex must be your mind, very stressful most definitely… maybe you dreamt about that, what EXACTLY was it again I forget…”
Like picking a lock with a fork. Not subtle, left feeling relatively idiotic.
However, tonight it will be different. Truly made an effort, look bloody stunning actually. Been practicing soul-searching eye gaze in mirror and good chance am now infatuated with self. Hot hot hot, tonight is our night.
But it never is, doubts settle in around glass number 2. Realise with sinking heart that tonight is the anniversary of his proposal to woman who is most definitely not me. Wonder whether it was in this bar – never found out the details. At the beginning that info would have fascinated, more sordid most welcome, but the more serious we are the less a stomach can handle.
Realising that weedling is turning to needling. Imagination starts chipping in. Does she want to cut our child access again? More money? Didn’t like my homework input? The cakes we baked? Maybe it’s not me at all, maybe she wants HIM. The first of many calls to win him back. Wouldn’t be the first time.
Nails start sliding down glass, ugly tracks in condensation. Avoiding gaze as know tears will track next, and it’s bloody Valentine’s Day. Not again, not here, not now. We were ON A DATE.
Feel the heat rising under his collar and wish I could stop it. Too late, here it is.
“Oh my god, for fucks sake. Fine. Why can’t you just leave it, do you have any idea how difficult you make this sometimes? She was calling to discuss the fact that I wanted to propose to you. Tonight.”
No. No no no. Noooooooooooooooo.