One Day

by David Nicholls

Since returning from the toilet, Dexter’s tone had become even more belligerent and provoking. Emma felt traitorous. This might have been her cue to confide in someone about the mess of her relationship and her confusion as to what to do next. But she couldn’t talk to Dexter, not now. She swallowed raw potato. ‘Ian’s great,’ she said emphatically. ‘Co-habiting okay? Flat coming along, is it?’ ‘Fantastic. You haven’t seen it yet, have you? You should come round!’ The invite was half-hearted and the reply a non-committal ‘Hm,’ as if Dexter was doubtful of the existence of pleasure beyond Underground Zone 2. There was a silence, and they returned to their plates. ‘How’s your steak?’ she asked, eventually. Dexter seemed to have lost his appetite, dissecting the bloody red meat without actually eating it. ‘Sensational. How’s the fish?’ ‘Cold.’ ‘Is it?’ He peered at her plate then shook his head sagely. ‘It’s opaque, Em. That’s how fish should be cooked, so it just turns opaque.’ ‘Dexter—’ Her voice was hard and sharp. ‘—it’s opaque because it’s deep-frozen. It hasn’t been defrosted.’ ‘Is it?’ He prodded angrily inside the sleeve of batter with his finger. ‘Well, we’ll send it back!’ ‘It’s fine. I’ll just eat the chips.’ ‘No, fuck it! Send it back! I’m not paying for fucking frozen fish! What is this, Bejams? We’ll get you something else.’ He waved a waiter over and Emma watched Dexter assert himself, insisting that it wasn’t good enough, it said fresh fish on the menu, he wante...

DAMN I WOULD KMS REALLY IF THIS EVER HAPPEN TO ME