14
I’m walking along the path of a huge, stunning park. It’s cold and the moon is bright, illuminating its perfectly trimmed bushes and trees that spread across the lawns, along a silent river.
There’s a man beside me, holding my hand. He has brown hair and a thick winter coat on.
“Do you think we’ll be able to afford the house?” I ask him. “I mean, realistically, Pete?”
Who the hell is Pete?
He nods with conviction. “Of course we will. It’ll be tight, but it’ll be worth it. And then we can finally leave that b****y farmhouse.”
“Hey, what’s wrong with living with my parents’?” I ask, playfully elbowing his ribs.
“I love them to bits, Becky.” And who the hell is Becky? “But just think how awesome it’ll be not having to drive so far to work in the morning.”
“I know. It’ll be great. I
