“Well, I could marry a narcissistic arsehole who leaves me a single mother, ruined and alone?”

Ben scrunched up his face dismissively and batted the comment away. “Nah, lightning doesn’t strike twice.”

“Ben!” she shrieked. I watched as she mock hit him. More needless touching.

I gulped another gulp. “Aren’t you giving up on all that?” I reminded her.

Jessica nodded. “I am.”

“Stupid,” Ben said, plucking my drink off me so he could have a slurp. He was high energy for a Friday evening. Had that puppyish bounce he used to have when we were first together. “You’re only, what, Jessica? Thirty-two or something? Life’s too long to be alone forever.”

I took the drink back off him. “Aren’t you scared they’ll be put off by her having a kid?”

It was a sour, awful thing to have said. Surprising even myself, but Jessica didn’t seem to have noticed. She nodded. “Exactly. It’s not really an aphrodisiac, is it? Motherhood?”

Ben waved a dismissive hand again. “Ridiculous. Bloody hell, at our age, you assume most people are going to have kids. I was surprised Fern didn’t, to be honest. Everyone knows dating in your thirties is second-time-around stuff.”

I twisted to him. “You thought I’d have kids?”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“And you didn’t mind?”

“No! Why would I?”

Jessica pointed at him. “See! This is what I need! A man who thinks like this.”

Careful, bitch, my brain said. Viscerally. Violently. Get away from him. Get the fuck out of my house.

Instead, I laughed shrilly. “Ben isn’t a one-off,” I said. “But, only date if it’s what feels right for you.”

“Maybe if I take a bit more time off. Speaking of which,” she lifted her chin to empty her glass, “I should probably stop gate-crashing your weekend and actually feed my child.”

“You’re welcome to stay,” I offered, hoping she’d say no.

“Bless you, but Fridays are the only night she’s allowed potato smiley faces. Bridget will scream the place down if I renege on such a promise.”

Ben laughed heartily and I wanted to smack him. But, instead, made myself go over and hug Jessica. “Shall we get a coffee or something this weekend?” I offered—mostly out of guilt at my own thoughts.

“That would be lovely, thank you.”

I watched her gather her stuff, and Ben, slightly tipsy, came and held me from behind, kissed the top of my head. The second he did it, I felt much better.

“Right, Bridget, come on, potato smiley face time.”