I want to get drunk with her, sweep her hair over her shoulders and tell her she’s beautiful and she’ll find someone else, that she doesn’t need him and neither do I. I want to get angry on her behalf and call him a cunt. I want to spill out of the bar, walk her to the station and tell her I’d like to see her again if she’d like to and she’d say, absolutely let’s do something next week, come over and you can meet some of my friends. After a time, we could say to one another, God wasn’t that weird we went for the same man? But we would forget that’s how we met because our friendship would go so
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