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He hadn’t, had he? Surely he hadn’t bought me a gym membership for my birthday. A joint membership. A gift for him too.I felt nauseous as that random speech about keeping fit and the great outdoors suddenly had a context.
‘What do you think?’ Jason shuffled in his seat with obvious excitement. ‘Is it the perfect gift or what?’
‘It’s great,’ I said, my voice sounding an octave higher than usual. ‘Thanks, Jase.’
‘You’re welcome. I knew you’d love it. How many times have you said you wished you had your own locker so you didn’t have to remember to take your shampoo and stuff when you go for a swim or sauna?’
Cue flashback of us leaving the gym a couple of weeks ago. I mustn’t have zipped my bag up properly because my shower gel clattered onto the tiled entrance floor, spurting citrus gunk everywhere. ‘Do you know what I wish for right now…?’ I said.
‘I know six months is a big commitment,’ he continued, ‘but as we’ve been living together for two years, I didn’t think it would be too big a step.’
I felt my shoulders sag and the energy seep from my whole being. So that’s what he meant about plans for the future. A six-month gym contract. Not a lifetime together. Tears pricked my eyes and I rapidly blinked them away.
‘That’s not the only present I’ve got for you,’ Jason said.
Maybe? He reached under his seat for something then pushed a sports shop carrier bag across the table with ‘Love, Jason’ scrawled across the front in marker pen. Maybe not. I peered into the bag and reluctantly pulled at the shiny leopard-print material. Oh. My. God. ‘A leotard?’
‘You’ll look fantastic in that.’ I really think he believed it.
I tentatively dangled the offending article over one finger and clocked the size 8–10 label. I wanted to scream at him:When have I ever been a size 8–10? When have I ever liked leopard-print? When have Iever indicated that I’d like to wear a leotard instead of a baggy T-shirt and leggings? After more than two years together, don’t you know me at all?Yet all I said was, ‘Thanks, Jason. It’s lovely,’ trying to sound as though I actually meant it. I suspected the accompanying smile looked more like a grimace, but Jason clearly didn’t notice. He looked so pleased with himself.
‘I knew you’d like it. I was only going to get you the gym membership, but when I was in the shop the other day, I spotted that in the sale and thought it was so you.’
How? How could he possibly think a leopard-print leotard was so me? I couldn’t bring myself to look at him as I hastily shoved the Devil’s gym kit back into the bag.
‘Firefighter Wilkes!’ A booming voice startled me. ‘You come to my restaurant.’
‘Mr Crocetti!’ Jason stood up and embraced a large man wearing chef’s whites.
‘Luigi, please,’ he insisted. ‘And who is thebella donna?Your wife?’
‘God, no!’ Jason said. ‘We’re not married. She’s just my girlfriend, Sarah.’
I stared at Jason, mouth open. ‘God, no’! Did he really just say that? And ‘justmy girlfriend’? He did. He said, ‘God, no!’ That would mean the idea of getting married to me was…I couldn’t finish the thought.
‘Buona sera,Sarah.’ Luigi reached for my hand and kissed it. ‘Your man here, he save house. He save rabbit. He is hero.’
‘He did what?’ My head felt fuzzy. I needed some air, but I had a wall on one side and a loud Italian on the other.
‘He save house. He save rabbit,’ Luigi repeated.
‘I was on a shout today,’ Jason explained. ‘Small fire in Luigi’s garage. Their pet rabbit was overcome by smoke but I did mouth-to-mouth and?—’
‘He save rabbit.Bambiniso happy. I say to him come to my restaurant any time. On the house. You choose anything. He suggest tonight. I say of course.’
‘Thanks Luigi,’ Jason said.
‘Enjoy.’ Luigi leaned over and patted my arm then pointed at Jason. ‘Hero,’ he said, bowing. Then he headed towards the kitchen.
I felt the colour drain from my cheeks as I stared at Jason. ‘It’s free?’ I whispered. ‘The meal? Champagne? Tonight?’
‘I know. How great is that? Don’t get mad at me, but I hadn’t got round to booking anywhere so the timing was perfect. Like I could afford to bring you here again if it wasn’t on the house.’
He grinned at me, clearly thrilled with himself and oblivious to the impact of his actions. I lowered my eyes to my hands, which were hanging limply in my lap, and focused on the bare engagement finger. It was never going to be a proposal. It was a last-minute freebie and I was such a stupid fool. Sighing, I covered my left hand with my right one.
