Louise

I owe you something of an apology, Niall. In all of this, I haven’t been quite honest about a few things. Though it’s not that I’ve actively lied, really. It’s more that I’ve failed to tell you significant details.

I don’t even know why I care what you think any more, but for some reason it’s still hard to admit a few things to you. Perhaps because it’s hard to admit them to myself. It could be that. But I’m starting to realise that the only way I’m going to feel better is to blast every secret out of the water, and leave the truth standing bare. Probably dripping onto our spotless fucking carpets.

So, the first untruth by omission. It’s a longstanding one, and I know that you’re going to hate it.

You were not the first man I kissed at Hannah’s wedding. More than that, I almost ended up going home with someone else entirely.

I told you that April’s Italian friend had flirted with me. I don’t remember anything he said to me. Or much else about him. Just that he was tall, attractive, and didn’t really sound all that Italian.

And, in fact, I don’t really know how it happened. One minute I was talking to the bride, and the next I was in a corridor, pressed up against a wall while this handsome man slid his tongue into my mouth and his hand round my back.

I’d never done anything like that before. I’ve already told you how hard I used to find it to attract attention. Alpha men, in particular, used to look straight past me. So it was extraordinary to me. Wonderful. I was a willing participant as he drew me into an empty bathroom and locked the door behind us.

A more experienced, more self-possessed woman might have taken it further. There might be another reality where I am that person, and where you and I never got together because I decided pushy Italian men were my thing. Maybe it’s an inverted reality, where Drunk Louise is the real person and Sober Me is the snivelling creature who only comes out after I forget to drink enough.

But that isn’t how it was. As he pinned me against the counter and started to lift my dress, Sober Louise made a comeback. I suddenly felt like it was too much. Too fast. Like I shouldn’t be doing this with a man I didn’t know, and particularly not with one who was so very much in control.

I went from desire to panic. I found myself fighting to be free of him. He was asking me what was wrong, and then someone started banging on the door. They must have seen us go in there.