“You don’t have to stay,” she says. I look from her to the pub. I hate feeling like I want to come inside with her but can’t. I hate that my own head is driving me away from everything I want. “I’d love to stay for a while, it’s just . . .” “A bad brain day.” I laugh. “A bad brain day. I like that. And . . . yeah, that’s exactly the sort of day I’m having.”
