I did shout. Sort of. She still got an eyeful, went scarlet, then made tea like nothing happened. Mia is never letting either of us forget this one.
Tag: friendship
The Group Chat Has Screenshots
Of him. Of the texts. Of my “I’m coming home I swear” lie from 2am. Democracy is dead in this flat and I’m the president.
Her Best Friend Slid In
After I posted the blurry photo. “That’s my mate’s boyfriend.” I typed then deleted then posted the next one anyway.
I Told The Truth At Brunch
They asked how my Saturday was. I said I went home with a man whose name I still don’t have. Eggs went cold.
The Group Chat Has Receipts
Screenshots. Voice notes. A blurry photo from the smoking area. I thought I was being discreet. I was being content. There’s a difference and I keep forgetting it.
Group Chat Named Him
We never use real names. This week he’s “Mayfair Suit.” Last week he was “Wrong Uber.” Sophie clocked the pattern. Said I need a hobby that isn’t collecting aliases. Rude. Accurate.
Sunday Roast Turned Into Gossip
One bottle in and suddenly everyone’s ex has a name, a job, and a disappointing bedroom habit. I contributed. Obviously. I’m not going to sit there looking saintly.
We Compared Notes In The Kitchen
Mia’s boy versus mine. Timing, stamina, whether they asked for water after. Scientific. Petty. Necessary.
Sophie Made A Chore Chart
It now includes “remove strange men before 9am” and “buy more loo roll after weekends”. I initialled it in lip gloss.
I Lied About The Taxi
Told them I went west. I went east. With him. The receipt is still in my coat and Mia has a nose like a bloody sniffer dog.