“Please don’t ask me what I’ve done all day,” Ben called back. “I’m too ashamed.”

I smiled as I kicked off the other sandal. “You’re in your pants, aren’t you?”

“Stop it. No! Well...maybe.”

As I turned into our living room, I found my boyfriend sitting topless, wearing only a pair of old orange boxers, with his legs apart, playing his games console. He paused the football game and looked up at me, grinning.

“I’m a teacher on half term,” he pleaded. “You cannot judge.”

I looked around the mess of our flat, that Ben had promised he’d tidy properly once it was the holidays. It had got worse today, his first day off. An assortment of dirty plates and half-drunk mugs of tea littered the flat surfaces. He was also pretending we hadn’t had another run-in the previous day about the marriage thing. When he got all quiet and weird after I admitted “it is kind of important to me.” But, as I’d just spent two hours complaining about him to Heather, I felt too guilty to be annoyed now. She’d patiently listened while I’d totally spiraled on her about his lack of proposal, and feeling insecure, and weird that Jessica had moved nearby. I followed his lead and didn’t bring it up again, climbing onto the sofa to give him a kiss.

“Did you leave the house at all?” I teased.

“I love you. Please never leave me for being so gross.”

“I promise.” I pushed myself up to get myself a glass of water and wash my hands after holding the sweaty pole of the Overground.

“Did you have a good day?” he called, turning the football game back on. “How was your course? How was Heather? She wasn’t on the rampage was she?”

I glugged down some water and refilled my glass. “She was on surprisingly good form. She’s very excited by this new gonorrhea vaccine that’s on the horizon.”

I saw the back of Ben’s head shudder and laughed, then I waddled into the bathroom and ransacked the cabinet for the remaining plasters, choosing which two blisters to prioritize. Heather and I had circled Clissold Park several times while she told me off for being an idiot relentlessly. In typical Heather fashion, her main response was, “Why would you yearn to join an institution that is scientifically proven to make women unhappier?”

“Not all women.”

“I feel like you’re complaining about failing the physical of a military draft.”

I’d bumped her with my hip. “May I point out to you that YOU are MARRIED too.”

“I’m not fucking married, yeesh. We have a civil partnership. And we only did that so Katie can get my state pension.”

“Well, maybe I want a piece of Ben’s state pension.”