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I am very drunk.

Jeremy is asleep beside me. He came over earlier with a bottle of Hendrick’s and a cucumber.

“Hair of the dog?” he said.

“You’re very fresh,” I replied.

He brandished the cucumber in my face. “Fresher than this. The produce at Deluca’s was rubbish.”

I let him in. He went straight for my martini glasses.

I went back to my chaise and chenille throw. He brought me a Gibson, straight up, extra dry, three tipsy onions.

“You were drinking last night,” he observed.

I sipped from the glass. He sat on the love seat opposite me.

“You got fucked last night,” he smirked.

I swallowed half the drink. “And you’re upset about something.”

When I tucked him in three hours later, he blinked sleepily up at me with those aquamarine eyes. “Bee, you are… lovely.”

“I know, my sweetness.” I smoothed his forehead. “I know.”

He fell asleep beside me.

I am very drunk.

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