Everyone laughed and I felt warm to my core. As empty plates were stacked, and fresh bowls set out ready for pudding, everyone bonded over sharing their teenage angst.

“I was such an emo,” Joanie admitted. “Do you know one student actually recommended The Bell Jar to me the other day, like I hadn’t considered getting sections tattooed on me?”

Ben and I sniggered, listening in, as we huddled in our tiny kitchen, plating up slices of the chocolate torte. He kept leaning over and kissing the bare skin around my neck, his eyes doing that dewy misting that men’s eyes do sometimes when you know they’re really, really, into you. The success of the evening was gluing us together as a couple. I felt us evolve just from this one night. Maybe he could change his mind about marriage? Surely tonight proved how great we were?

“Jessica is hilarious,” he whispered as we sprinkled icing sugar onto the last plate.

“Isn’t she?”

“I love you,” he told me, before I had time to get insecure about the “Jessica is hilarious” comment.

“I know,” I winked, and he slapped my arse as we headed for the table with chocolate-laden arms.

By the time the torte was demolished, everyone was beyond drunk. Slurring. Leaning over the table and uttering nonsense about who we used to be.

“I miss being young.”

“The skin!”

“The lack of hangovers.”

“The energy.”

“No tax on your Saturday job cuz of the student exemption.”

“The drugs,” Douglas said, wistfully. “So many drugs.”

“Oh my God, it’s been a very long time since I’ve...dabbled,” Ben admitted, and I must’ve really loved the man if I still loved him after he used the word dabbled.

“I was such a stoner at uni,” Joanie admitted. “Gained a stone. Best stone of my life.”

And, before anyone knew what to do, Jessica had reached into her handbag, her trademark grin on her face, and held up a stuffed white baggie. “Did someone say drugs?” she asked.

The chatter hit a full stop, everyone staring at Jessica and the bag of cocaine in her manicured hands. She laughed lightly. “What? It’s only some coke.”

“Where the hell did you get drugs from?” I asked.

Jessica shrugged. “A drug dealer?”

Ben and I shared many things in one look. Panic. Ben’s colleagues were here...

“Amazing,” Douglas clapped his hands. “I can’t believe you just produced drugs like that. If I say how much I want a red Ferrari, will one appear outside?”

Jessica laughed her tinkly laugh. “I’ll see what I can do. Anyway,” she tapped the bag with her finger. “Who’s in?”

I found myself in the weirdly nostalgic position of looking around my peers to see who said what first. Heather, never one to care about peer pressure, shook her head. “It’s a no from me. But you go ahead.”

Joanie strained her neck over her empty bowl, eyeing the bag. “Is it ethically sourced?” she asked. “I only do cocaine if it’s woke.”