Ben snorted and I dissolved, and we were still giggling when the waiter returned, with the wine all dressed up in its little napkin scarf. I glanced over at Ben, love heavy in my heart, as he went through the rigmarole of tasting the wine, and nodding, and not knowing what facial expression to make when the waiter poured it. Tonight was just what we needed. Me especially. To get away from our flat, with Jessica always around, and to get out of my head, which was intent on falling into an insecure abyss. Once the waiter left, and we could relax, Ben held up his glass.

“I really am so fucking proud of you,” he said, his face bathed in the subtle golden light of the opulent restaurant.

“I mean, it might all be a total wind-up.”

“Yes, but still... I can’t believe an agent has been in touch. About a book deal. This is like, the dream.”

I was so uncomfortable with this strange new plot twist that Ben’s words almost felt foreign. “I mean, the agent could be a total charlatan and the whole thing could be a terrible embarrassment.”

In a mad turn of events, the success of The Other Side of the Tissue Box had apparently caught the attention of the publishing industry. Two days ago, a nonfiction literary agent called Lucinda had emailed to tell me I was a genius, that she wanted to be my agent, and that I totally needed to let her take me out to lunch. Earlier that day, she’d taken me to a place even nicer than this to share “her vision for me.” She wanted me to write my Gah! web series into a memoir, exploring my journey from a teenage suicidal mess to “mental health expert.” Her hands had become more and more animated over the lunch she didn’t eat, as she filled my head with the very grandest of notions. “Going to be huge...you’ve really tapped into the zeitgeist here... I predict a huge marketing campaign...foreign sales...bestseller lists...you’ll be invited to all the festivals to share your expertise.”

I think her head almost fell off when I’d told Lucinda, “I’d think about it,” rather than signing her contract straightaway.

Ben, sensing my thoughts, put his glass down. “Are you still unsure? It’s such a huge opportunity, Fern. Huge.”

I sighed. “I know we need the money and everything, but I’m not sure I believe it’s right, you know? I mean, I’m not even a counselor yet. I’m years away from that. I don’t want to fuck up.”

“I don’t want to get all psychology teacher on you, but you know fear is a bad reason to say no to anything.”