The wall is covered with Post-its and we have eaten all the cookies. I put the lid on the pen and half throw it on the table.

‘My brain is tired. I need to take a break.’

Peter shuts his computer so abruptly it makes me jump, even through the mind fog I currently have.

‘Oh, thank God. Can we go get lunch? I’m starving. I only had a lasagne for breakfast.’

‘Who has lasagne for breakfast?’

‘It’s a perfectly balanced meal.’

My brain really is tired, so I let it go.

‘I think the market is open. We could go there.’

Peter jumps up from the couch and tugs down on the front of his shirt. ‘Perfect.’

Peter earns a lot more money than I do and therefore can afford to live in a much nicer part of town. Not wanting him to judge me for my comparatively dodgy surroundings, I carefully plan a walk that avoids the worst parts of the local area. I wonder if any of the streets I avoid are where Colin’s friends live. Oh God. What if Colin is hanging around? Panic sets in. I should have thought about this before we left the apartment.

I haven’t messaged him since we had sex. The only thing I could think to say was ‘thank you’ and that seemed somewhat insensitive, so I’ve stayed silent.

Palms sweating, I take us on quite a meandering route. Hopefully Peter won’t ask for the reason behind the wiggling.

‘I like your scarf.’

I snort. ‘Thanks.’

‘Why is that funny?’

Oops. ‘No reason.’ I avoid eye contact. ‘So … how are things with you and Alice? Last time I saw you, you didn’t really give me an answer.’

‘Ah yes, the lovely Alice. Well, to be honest they aren’t going very far. She’s a great girl, but she’s not the one for me. And I am definitely not the one for her.’

‘Interesting. Tell me.’

He shoves his hands into his pockets. ‘There’s nothing to tell really. She’s lovely. She’s attractive. She’s very kind. But she isn’t the person I want to be with.’

‘Well, who do you want to be with? What kind of things do you want in a relationship?’

I can see him in my peripheral vision, but I purposefully keep my eyes away, trying to give him the safety of perceived anonymity.

‘That’s a good question to ask. It’s either a really long list, or a really short one.’

In an effort to lighten the mood, I grab his elbow and make space to loop my arm with his. I didn’t mean for my question to bring him down, but I can feel emotions coming off him in waves.

‘Well, you deserve to be happy. And whoever she ends up being, she’s a lucky girl.’

We walk on for a while, but he’s clearly still distracted. The silence is not quite comfortable.

I decide to distract him with thoughts of food. ‘So, what do you fancy for lunch? A hotdog? A burrito?’