That startles a laugh out of him, and I relent suddenly. It’s hard to hold out against the power of that slightly rusty laugh. I lower myself onto the other sofa in front of him. “I’m sorry too,” I say softly. “Just do me a favour and stop saying how young I fucking am. It properly winds me up. Like you think I’m a fucking child. Either that or you’re using it to make sure I know my place.”

“I don’t think you’re a child,” he says slowly, and for a second our eyes meet and seem to tangle and get caught as we stare at each other. I hold my breath, but he shakes his head and looks down at the table between us. “You’re right,” he says reluctantly.

“I am?” I sound very startled.

“Yes, I’ll note it in my diary.” He smiles at me, all traces of reserve suddenly gone, melted away under the sweetness of that curve of his mouth. “I really am sorry,” he offers, looking suddenly a lot younger. “I’m on edge, and I didn’t need that little scene outside.”

“Why are you on edge? Do you want him back?” I ask abruptly.

He looks startled and then thoughtful, and my stomach drops. “At one point I did,” he says slowly. “If you’d asked me a year ago, I’d have said yes. But now?” He shrugs.

“Now what?” I ask, and he must sense the sudden passion in my voice, because he looks slightly worried. Like I’m going to leap on him with a ring, demanding to be married instantly. It itches and stings under my skin like I’ve grabbed a nettle with my bare hands.

I sit back deliberately and coolly. “I need to know, Zeb, because if you’re making a play for the groom at his wedding, then we’re edging out of romantic comedy and into something a bit darker.”

He looks offended. “I’d never do that.”

“I don’t think it’s entirely up to you,” I say, thoughtfully watching him. “I think Patrick still has feelings.”

He shrugs dismissively. “I suppose some feelings don’t just go away. Me turning up with you must have thrown him. It’s not easy to see your ex with someone else, no matter how much you’ve moved on.”

“Hmm. Well, I’d watch your step with him this week because there’s something a bit off about all of this.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean having it here where you used to come together, inviting you to be best man. He’s either very determined to rub your nose in it, or he’s got another agenda.”

“What?” He sounds startled. “What do you mean?”