‘No. I’m just tired. Work sucks at the moment and my brain is scrambled.’
‘Well, let’s go out and forget our worries for a night.’
I hate the way he says ‘ourworries’, like he’s dismissing mine. He doesn’t get it, and somehow that makes me want to cry and throat-punch him simultaneously. I think, maybe for the first time, about what it would be like to be alone every night – no negotiations, no explaining myself, no going out when I want to stay in.
I realise that this is why our relationship hasn’t progressed in years. He never wants to talk about the serious stuff. Never wants to hear anything negative. It always has to be sunlight and laughter. Which, on the one hand, is also what I love about him, but it can be frustrating when there are real issues going on in my life.
‘Can you see my Mulberry bag anywhere? The small one, crossbody?’ I try to sound casual. ‘I was sure I left it here, but it’s gone.’
Reece scans the room in a slow, distracted way. ‘You probably left it at work.’
‘I never take it to work. Too nice for the office. I usually keep it here so I don’t forget it on the way out. I think I must be losing my marbles.’
There’s a silence, and I feel for a moment like I’ve opened a door to a possible future, a version of myself who loses things, who forgets appointments and cries in changing rooms and quietly becomes someone nobody can quite rely on. The thought makes my chest throb.
‘I think you’re just tired,’ Reece says.
‘Maybe. I just... I have this feeling in here tonight like someone’s been around my stuff.’
He laughs, which I find infuriating. ‘Maybe it’s the ghosts of your old school friends, come to haunt your fashion choices.’
‘Ha, ha.’ I roll my eyes. But I do remember locking the door, checking twice before I left this morning. There’s no way anyone could have got in. It must be Kayleigh. Has to be. Maybe she arranged to come today instead, and I forgot. Same as I forgot I was supposed to be meeting Marisol this evening. I’m going to have to ensure I put everything in my online diary instead of thinking I’ll remember.
I try to put it out of my mind and return to the perma-crisis of getting dressed. I pull out another top, a forest-green one with a low scoop, and try it with the skirt. Better.
‘Do you think I should get an alarm system?’ I ask, half joking. Although I don’t know why I’m asking, because I can’t afford anything like that at the moment.
Reece’s eyebrows go up. ‘If it makes you feel safer, sure, why not?’ He’s reading something on his phone, not even looking at me.
‘Or what about a doorbell camera?’ I muse, sure I could pick one up cheaply. Something suddenly occurs to me. ‘Hey, can you grab my wallet from the dresser?’
He tosses it to me, almost knocking over my bottle of La Mer Revitalizing Hydrating Serum. I repress a grunt of annoyance, flip the wallet open, and my blood goes cold. My credit card isn’t there.
‘Fuck.’
‘What now?’ He sounds more tired than curious.
‘My credit card!’
‘What about it?’ Reece frowns.
‘I just remembered, I went to pay for... something yesterday and it wasn’t in my purse.’ I’m not telling Reece that I went out drinking alone last night. I was hoping I was wrong, but it’s not here.
‘When did you last have it?’
‘You sound like my mum,’ I say, but I try to think. ‘Not yesterday. I think it was at the weekend? I picked up a coffee from Beanz on Sunday morning, before we went to my parents’ place.’
‘Maybe you left it in the café.’
‘Good point. They’ll be closed now. I’ll pop in tomorrow.’
‘You should probably check your bank statement, just in case.’
That’s actually a good idea, but I resent him for having it. I snatch up my phone, open up the app, and take a look at my credit card statement. ‘You have got to be kidding me.’
‘What?’ Reece comes and looks over my shoulder.
‘Superdry, John Lewis, Zara, the Apple Store...’ I murmur in disbelief, noting that each transaction is time-stamped within minutes of the last. In total, over a thousand quid gone in one evening.