Irate, grossed out, and exhausted.
What was the trigger?
Someone else’s thoughtlessness and my inability to point it out calmly. I want to be able to handle something like that rationally without letting it get to me. It’s been sitting like a knot in my stomach ever since. And it still smells in the living room.
Friday:
What happened?
I tried to cook some chicken fajitas for a dinner party, and it was a disaster. Does everyone justknowyou’re not meant to warm up kale for a salad?
How did you feel?
Really frustrated and stupid. And outraged at the prices Domino’s charges for a bit of bread and cheese. Deal Wizard my arse.
What was the trigger?
Feeling out of my depth, I think. I’ve always felt like my brain is the one thing I have. I can’t be the coolest or prettiest person in the room, but I like to feel like I’m one of the brightest. Feeling like I’m not good at something really bothers me. It also makes me think about my mum and whether she ever tried to teach me to cook. I don’t remember.
Saturday:
What happened?
I went to this book podcast, Q&A event thing – just a random thing I saw advertised, totally randomly. But at this random thing, there was a woman – a random woman – who made me angry. Just randomly.
How did you feel?
Jealous. Impressed. Sexually confused.
What was the trigger?
I think it was seeing this woman being so happy with herself. She handles all these complicated things with such ease and it makes me angry. I want to be better at my life. I want to be her.
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
I feel strangely nervous, arriving at my third therapy session with Edward on Monday.
After Friday’s dinner party revelations, I know he will want to talk about Justin – about Orla – and I know I should tell him the truth about it all. The truth about what Sam and I got up to on Saturday. But I am – of course! Obviously! Duh! – very embarrassed. I know how dysfunctional my behaviour has been – is being – and I don’t want to feel or hear his judgement about it.
And then there is also the other thing making me nervous.
‘Good morning, Olivia,’ he greets me cheerfully, as I soft knock and enter. ‘Nice to see you, come and sit.’
I do, unable to look at him directly. I think again of what Arshiya said at the dinner party the other day. That thing about the tension between me and Edward. About him having a thing for me since our university days. I needto know what she meant by it. Was it just one of those silly things women are socialised to do: bonding via inane and well-intentioned baseless gossip? Or was it something else? Maybe she’d had a couple of drinks before coming over? Maybe she was tipsy.
Except of course, Arshiya doesn’t drink.
Tipsy on life? It doesn’t seem likely.
So where did that come from? Why did she say that?
‘Friday was fun!’ I leap in with the first thing I can think of as I plump cushions beside me on the sofa.
He frowns. ‘I was going to keep church and state separate,’ he comments dryly. ‘But since you brought it up, can we talk about Justin and the new girlfriend?’
Goddammit.
He is looking at me intently. ‘Or, more accurately, can we talk about how you feel and how you’rereactingto Justin and his new girlfriend?’
