Short bursts, at first, and then for longer. It was proper, genuine laughter, the kind that makes your whole body shake.
My mouth was wide open, my breath slightly wheezy, my eyes shut tight.
I felt vulnerable, and yet very relaxed and comfortable. I imagined that vomiting or going to the lavatory in front of him would feel the same way.
“Look, it’s totally my fault,” he said, when we’d finally calmed down.
“I’m so sorry if I upset you, Eleanor. I shouldn’t even have brought it up, especially today when I’m hung over—my brain feels mashed,” he said.
“You’re absolutely right. It’s your business, and your decision. One hundred percent.”
He was still holding on to my hands. It was extremely pleasant. “It’s fine, Raymond,” I said, and I meant it.
“I’m sorry if I overreacted. I know that you’re a kind man who means well, and you were only trying to help.”
I ventured a small smile at the sight of his face, which was full of relief.
He let go of my hands very gently. I hadn’t really noticed his eyes before. They were green, flecked with brown. Very unusual.
He smiled again, then put his palms up to his face and rubbed it, groaning quietly.
“Christ,” he said. “I can’t believe I’ve got to visit my mum now and see to the cats. I just want to crawl back to bed and sleep until Tuesday.”
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