“I was going to beg you to come to this bloody wedding with me. I thought I’d be fine going on my own. In fact, I think I wanted to be the poor jilted Scott all alone while his ex-wife clings to the arm of another man. But I don’t want to be that guy. That guy is a miserable fuck.”

He looks fairly miserable already, not that I’d tell him. And I know where he’s coming from. When Pete left me, I spent months going to all these events without him, knowing everyone was looking at me and feeling sorry for me, and it was the worst.

“OK,” I say, wishing instantly I hadn’t opened my mouth.

Scott’s expression changes to one of wonder.

“Really? You’d do that?”

What the hell am I doing?

“What time does it start? I’d need to get myself sorted.”

In other words, go to the gym downstairs for an hour, have a long shower and try to figure out what I’ve let myself in for.

“It’s not till 6 p.m. I could come get you at five thirty? Are you sure, Trish? It’s a big ask.”

“Yes, it is a big ask, and no, I’m not entirely sure, but the alternative is watching an in-room movie and eating too much, so as it stands, there are pros and cons either way.”

“Have you… Do you have a dress or something to wear?”

His genuine concern for the state of my wardrobe makes me smile.

“Yes, Scott, I have something to wear, unless this is a themed wedding. If it’s country and western or Hollywood, then I might struggle.”

Scott laughs. “It’s just your regular strait-laced, run-of-the-mill wedding.”

“OK then.” I hold my card over the sensor pad and my door clicks open. “See you at five thirty.”

Scott grabs my hand and pulls me into a hug.

“You’re amazing, Trish,” he says into my hair.

I choke, pretending he’s strangling me. “OK.”

He’s not far off – his arms are tightly wrapped around me.

Letting me go, Scott pushes my door open.

“See you later,” he says.

“Bye.”

I brush past him and close the door. Then I lean against it and let my breath out. What have I done?

7