I met Jonas for coffee a couple of days later. I wasn’t sure I would, right until I walked in through the door of Starbucks, but I also knew if I hadn’t gone, I would probably have…not regretted it exactly, but questioned myself for probably my entire f*****g life.
So yeah. I texted him. Arranged to see him. And surprise surprise, it was fine. He looked the way he had before, bewildering to me in his normality, with those heavy, dark-framed glasses and the messy hair, and the big, dimply smile that came much less hesitantly now.
In fact, he looked positively lit up when I came in. Which, honestly, was kind of nice.
He bought me a muffin, and a hot chocolate, and it was awkward at first because we had something that felt as though it ought to be a connection but zero actual relationshi
