This morning I got up super-early and made breakfast. This is an event, let me tell you! I’m not the domesticated type. Usually, it’s a bowl of sugar-free granola, and even that is prepared by Josh.
Today, though, I find ripe avocados in the fridge and I mash them up with a little olive oil and cumin, like I saw someone do on TV the other day, spread the mixture on crispy toast and pop a poached egg on top. My poached eggs are a disaster, I’m not going to lie. They look like brains, and there’s water leaking from them, so the toast goes soggy in no time. But it’s the thought that counts.
I put the two plates on a tray with a pot of coffee, two mugs and some milk, salt and black pepper. I can hardly lift the bloody thing but I manage to lug it up the stairs with minimal spillage. Josh is still asleep, so I gently nudge him awake and present my offering.
I don’t think either of us got much sleep last night. I could sense that he was awake as much as I was, and at one point I risked it and snuggled into his back, draping my arm across his warm body. He didn’t react. But he didn’t push me off either, so that was something. He felt so safe, so solid. I whispered that I was sorry into his hair, but he didn’t reply so maybe he was sleeping after all.
‘I’m not really hungry,’ he says now. He looks wretched. Dark shadows under his beautiful eyes. I probably look no better myself.
‘It does look pretty inedible, doesn’t it?’ I slide back under the covers next to him. ‘I know you didn’t marry me for my culinary skills, haha!’
He rewards me with a half-smile and my stomach does somersaults. In my head, I try to calculate how much money I would lose if I cancelled the rental agreement on the flat. Three months, I think, the notice period is. Maybe we could sublet.
‘It’s kind of you,’ he says. ‘But I’ll just have the coffee.’
I pour him out a cup, hands shaking. ‘It’ll all be OK. I’ll make it up to you. And I’ll get over you and Paula. We’ll tell everyone you’d mixed antibiotics and alcohol or something. That you had no idea what you were doing. We’ll put on a united front and laugh about it.’
He looks at me. Deep brown eyes holding my gaze. I want to put my hand out and feel the rough stubble on his chin, but I know I have to leave it up to him to make the first move.
I wait.