10
Cath and I sat in silence for the rest of the meal. Ben and Tom realised something was up, but it was pretty clear neither of us wanted to explain what had happened. Not in front of everyone else, anyway.
I didn’t say a word on the drive home, either. Tom drove back — we’d planned for him to stay at mine tonight anyway — and he didn’t push or make any attempt to force me to tell him what had happened. He seemed to get it, seemed to understand. And I reckon quite a big part of him knows it was stupid of him to have said such a thing.
‘Look, I’m sorry,’ he said, as he parked his car up outside my place.
‘What for?’ I say, knowing damn well what for but wanting to hear him say it.
‘For the Bridezilla comment. I just—’
‘Just what?’
‘I don’t know. I was just trying to defend you, that
