Two days later, I knew I’d f****d up badly. Mari wouldn’t speak to me. She wouldn’t let me touch her. She just looked at me like I’d tried to drown a sack of puppies in front of her.
I’d never had anyone look at me like that: with disappointment that I existed.
Well, except for old man Gallagher. But I didn’t give a shite what he thought about me.
“Let’s try smiling without teeth,” I said to the couple I was taking photos of at a park in the city. The guy was one of those people who look constipated every time he smiled for a photo. Flipping through the ones I’d taken already, I knew it’d be a struggle to find a decent one.
The guy smiled without teeth, but he widened his eyes so he looked like a serial killer. f*****g hell.
His fiancée looked up at him and scowled. “Why are you makin
