Page 33 of The Late Bloomer’s Playlist

‘David, that is unfair!’ I snapped, going as far to drop my fork with a clang and point at him, too, just to underscore my outrage. ‘You are a phobe for relationships.’

He shrugged. ‘Both things can be true.’

‘Why on earth would you say that about me?’

‘Because, Patti, my love, it’s an absolute truth. Tell me one relationship that you haven’t cut short as soon as things started to feel even slightly serious with the woman. And, while you’re thinking on that’ – he stood and collected his plate from the table – ‘you can also think of the real and honest reason why you didn’t want me to set you up on that dating app. Are you done?’

I looked down at my plate and grabbed my fork. ‘With this conversation, yes.’

‘Tea or coffee?’

‘Tea. Strong.’ I spoke around the last of my mushrooms. ‘I’ve had a shock.’

David snorted. ‘Patti, I’m not saying anything cruel. Or anything you don’t know, for that matter, you just don’t like to admit it. But that doesn’t make it untrue.’

‘Well,’ I began in weak protest, ‘maybe Sheila will be different.’

He span around to face me and let out a dramatic gasp, both hands flying to his mouth. When he moved them away there was a Cheshire Cat grin on his face. ‘Maybe Sheila will be different,’ he said in a mocking, schoolgirl tone.

I narrowed my eyes. ‘I don’t think I like you this morning.’

‘We’ve been married for five years and together for a hundred.’ He took a few steps closer and kissed my forehead. ‘Frankly, I’m relieved you still like me on any morning.’

‘And that’s another thing,’ I carried on while David finally set about making tea. ‘I can’t talk about life, at all, without talking about you.’

‘Well, that’s a lovely thing to hear.’

‘But how do I refer you to you, David? That’s the problem.’

He leaned against the kitchen counter, folded his arms and scowled. The kettle’s slow boil was the perfect accompaniment to his expression. ‘You didn’t do anything stupid, did you?’

‘Like?’

‘Like telling her that you’re married.’

‘Well no, I didn’t, but–’

‘Thank everyone holy for that.’

‘But I’m going to have to eventually.’

‘Why?’ he blurted out. ‘I never tell women I’m married and it never causes any harm.’

‘It doesn’t?’

‘Well,’ he pressed his hands to his chest, ‘it doesn’t cause me any harm.’

‘You’re an idiot.’

‘That’s no way to speak to your husband.’

‘David, don’t.’ I propped my elbows on the table and rested my forehead in my palms. There soon came the soft thud of a mug being set in front of me, and the squeak of David’s chair as he sat back at the table. ‘I think I really like this woman,’ I admitted quietly, while keeping my eyes averted.

‘You know my thoughts on getting involved with women.’

I looked up at him. ‘I’m not sure I do, actually.’

David was wearing a soft smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. It was a beautiful expression on him, and one that he didn’t show off anywhere near enough. His smile was often pruned to impress; wide and toothy, to give everyone a flash of the teeth that he’d paid so much money for. You’re an idiot, I thought but with a gentle, glowing warmth.