He’s put his wallet on the table, a sure sign that he wants to leave, which I am one hundred per cent sure is because he wants to take me home after all the super cute things I’ve just been saying to him.
‘Let’s get you some food,’ he says.
Sensible lad.
‘Food first!’ I agree with a wink.
A hot bowl of noodles and three vegetable gyoza later and I’m feeling much less drunk but quite confused. Zach steered me to Wagamamas after our wine tasting and since we sat down to eat, I sense that he’s deliberately kept the conversation trained on day to day stuff. He hasn’t once mentioned my romantic outpouring and I get the impression that I said something wrong, but what? Zachlovestalking about his feelings!
I spear another dumpling with my chopsticks and munch thoughtfully. It’s possible that I was just being drunk and waffly. Maybe that’s the kind of conversation he’d prefer to have when I’m sober?
OH MY GOD of course that’s it!
I necked a whole load of wines before telling him how I felt and now he’s probably wondering how accurate I was being. Alice, you buffoon!
‘I meant all of it,’ I say later, as we sit in the back of a taxi on our way back to mine, Sheffield city flying past our windows.
‘Thanks Alice,’ he says.
‘Thanks? Is that all I get?’
He turns to me in the half-light with a frown across his face.
‘What do you want me to say?’
‘I dunno. I thought you might be a bit more appreciative, that’s all.’
Zach sighs. ‘Look, it’s getting late and I don’t want to ruin a nice night.’
‘Why would you ruin it? What’s up?’
The cab pulls up outside my house and we step out, my mind spinning in confusion as I search for my keys. Inside, we shrug off our coats and kick off our shoes in an awkward silence, the helium balloon levels of happy I’d felt earlier now falling completely flat.
I’m about to speak when Zach beats me to it.
‘I’m beat. Mind if I head up to bed?’
‘Go for it,’ I reply. Looks like we’re calling it night, then.
I’m awake before Zach so I inch quietly out of bed, padding downstairs to make us some tea. Now that I’m one hundred per cent sober, I’m still not sure quite what went wrong but I’m guessing my boozy declaration of love just hit the wrong note, somehow.
‘Morning,’ I say, setting a mug of tea down next to Zach as he stirs. ‘Look, I found our wine notes from last night in my bag.’
I hand him the piece of paper as he pulls on his glasses. ‘I’d forgotten about the Barolo which we decided tasted like “recently turned soil”,’ I add with a laugh.
Zach yawns and stretches and doesn’t laugh back.
‘Do you want to talk about it?’ I ask eventually.
‘I worry that if I say what I want to say, it will push you away.’
I sit down on the bed next to him.
‘Why would it push me away?’
Zach sighs. ‘Because it’s a future thing. Our future.’
‘Zach, I know I was drunk last night but I’m pretty sure I said I wanted a future with you. I wish you didn’t feel like you were treading on eggshells around me all the time.’
