Page 31 of Going Overboard

‘You know what? That’s an excellent way to put it,’ he replies. ‘It looked great – you saw the place – but it never felt like us. How do you fix that?’

‘You can still use a designer, you just tell them what you want, rather than to do what they think or what’s trendy,’ I reply.

‘Well, I know that for my new place,’ he replies. ‘When I find the right one. My rental is…’

His voice trails off again.

‘Sorry, sorry, I can’t believe I’ve got you talking about work, enough of that,’ he says, pausing to take a big drink. ‘Let’s talk about something else.’

To be honest with you, I was at my most relaxed, talking shop, because it distracted me from the fact that this is sort of a date and yet all I can think about is bloody Todd. I just need to forget about him, lean into the conversation more, give Paul a real chance.

‘What do you like to watch on TV?’ he asks.

‘Oh, everything,’ I reply. ‘I love a binge-watch. I think I set my record for most episodes watched in one sitting withBreaking Bad– seven episodes in a row.’

And yes, I am genuinely proud of that.

‘Wow, seven? That’s impressive,’ he replies. ‘Is that not… seven hours?’

‘Near enough,’ I say with a laugh. ‘But sometimes you just need to get lost in someone else’s life.’

‘So, is that your comfort show, then?’ he asks, one eyebrow raised.

As much as I loveBreaking Bad, it would be a red flag if someone called it their comfort show on a first date, right?

‘Oh, no, that’sIt’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia,’ I reply. ‘That’s one of those shows that I can just watch again and again, no matter what I’m doing, and it always makes me happy.’

‘I’ve never seen it,’ he replies. ‘It sounds like a cure for all ills…’

‘Oh, absolutely,’ I reply. ‘I remember when I… when… when I had…’

Shit. I was going to tell him a story – about bloody Todd – but it’s not just that it’s about him, it’s a good story, about a time when he was great. A memory that makes me miss what we had – what he took from me.

‘Ooh, go on, this sounds interesting,’ he prompts me.

‘Oh, no, I was just going to say, I had the flu, it was awful, I couldn’t think straight, and my boyfriend at the time put it on forme, and I guess I just binge-watched it until I felt better. It got me through it.’

‘Well, that was nice of him,’ he replies.

‘It was,’ I say softly. ‘Because he… he didn’t really like watching TV. Only a couple of shows, and he hatedSunny, so… to put it on for me… for hours… yeah.’

The lump in my throat feels more like a hand wrapped around my neck.

Paul smiles politely, but I can tell the vibe has shifted. I’ve soured the air with something and now we’re both struggling to keep smiling.

‘But yeah, it was just… just one… just one of those things,’ I say, trying to smooth it over, but the wobble in my voice grows more obvious with each word.

I stare upwards – because someone once told me that was a lifehack to stop yourself from crying – and try to get Todd out of my head. It’s just that things were good between us, he was a great boyfriend, I thought we had a future together and now it’s all over. Not just my dreams for the two of us, but my personal dreams too – they were tangled up with his and, if I take him out of the equation, there’s just plot holes everywhere. I don’t even know what my hopes are for the future now.

‘So, music…’ Paul says, trying to get the conversation back on track, but it’s too late. I lean forward, still trying to keep my eyeballs fixed on the high ceiling above us, trying to blink away the feeling, the inevitable tell that I’m about to start crying. My eyes feel swollen with it, full of tears, and I don’t know where else they can go but out. ‘Erm… are you okay?’ he asks, his body stiffening awkwardly.

‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ I squeak, subtly wiping away the first couple of tears to escape. ‘Just… there’s something in my eye.’

‘Which one?’ he asks.

‘Both,’ I reply.

Oh, boy, the tears are really flowing now. I mean, obviously I’m crying, and I’m doing my best to keep a lid on the sobs, but the tears wait for no man. They’re really flowing now.

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