If Miriam regretted anything, it wasn't the copious amounts of Ryan's special cocktail she consumed, or the beer she stupidly added on top. It wasn't Wes interrupting her and Ade, or giving away her number—although, she did question whether she should've. Oh no, it was her dress. Or rather, its length. Mid-thigh, with capped sleeves and lace edging, it was her favourite. It was also made for the summer, and although it was an unseasonably warm March, she should've worn a coat. Even the alcohol was doing a bad job of keeping the cold at bay.

"The uber should be here any minute," Wes promised when he and Miriam stepped out of the house once and for all. She wound her arms tightly against herself and steeled herself when a shiver rippled down her spine. Another threatened eruption, but Wes shrugged off his jean jacket and draped it over her shoulders, stopping the shiver in its tracks.

"What would I do without you?" Miriam cooed.

"Freeze to death."

"At least I'd look damn good doing it." She slipped her arms through the sleeves.

"You look good doing everything."

Miriam expected Wes to laugh, loud and brash before delivering a much-needed insult to dilute the sweetness of his words, but he held fast to the compliment, smiling softly in a way she felt should be reserved for someone else. Of course, there was nobody else; there hadn't been for a while, a fact which didn't much bother Miriam until she thought about it. Naturally, she avoided doing so until moments like this, when the reality of their singleness weighed heavy. Then the uber arrived, and it didn't matter.

The driver rolled down his window and stuck his head out. "Wesley?" he asked, voice coloured by a gruff, cockney accent.

"Yeah, thanks mate."

Miriam resisted the urge to roll her eyes at Wes' forced cockney inflections, false and heavy on his tongue, and instead focused on slipping into the car without flashing the driver. While wriggling the hem of her dress down her thighs, he started the ignition and crept away from the curb, picking up speed only once Miriam was safely buckled in.

"What did Ade want?" Wes asked, his tone surprisingly breezy for someone who believed Ade could ruin her.

"Who knows."

"You," Wes laughed, only it sounded gargled and strange. "He must've wanted more than book recommendations," he said.

Miriam shrugged. "It was weird," she said. "But the day a guy admits what he wants, is the day hell freezes—"

Her phone rang. Vibrations intensified the ringtone which became inane and piercing until she answered the call. It promptly cut, switching to a facetime request, and offering Miriam the luxury of checking who was calling.

"Fuck," she hissed once she saw Mum splashed across the screen.

"Isn't it a bit late for her?" Wes asked.

"She's in New York," Miriam said before taking a deep breath, mustering the fakest smile in her arsenal, and answering the call.

Her mother's face filled the screen. A spitting image of Miriam's, only where she was smooth and taut, her mother was lined and wrinkled, bitter too, for she was hard pressed to smile. "Finally," she said, already turning away from the camera to glance at what Miriam was sure to be another device. "I've been trying to call you all week."

It was a lie that, in the past, would've left Miriam perturbed, but instead saw her placate her mother as she said, "Must be the time difference."

"Why is it so dark?" her mother asked, dismissing her first annoyance for another. "Where are you?"

"Wes and I just got into an uber."

Wes must've taken this as his queue because he leaned over and squashed into frame, cheek pressed so close to Miriam's, his excess heat seeped into her skin. "Hey Mrs Pearson," he waved.

"Wesley." Something akin to joy, if Miriam's mother could experience it, seeped into her voice. "How are you?"

"I'm good," he said with a nod. "Busy, but good."

"A real degree will do that to you."

Both Miriam and Wes winced, but, yet again, her mother was off glancing to the side, saving Miriam from a hypocritical rant about wrinkles and skin health. "As much as I've missed your voice," she said instead, "is there a reason you called?"

Her mother cut her a glare which, once upon a time, might've made Miriam shit her pants, but now simply added to the exhaustion of the whole charade. "Your father's birthday is coming up," she said.

"I'm aware," Miriam muttered.

"Good, so I'll be expecting you home, for dinner."

"On a Tuesday? It takes like three hours to get home on the train, and I have classes the next day."

"And yet here you are, out on a weeknight," her mother said, lips pursed.

"Yes, but I'm in Eastford. It's different."

"We prioritise the things that are important to us," her mother said distractedly. "Is your father not important to you?"

Miriam's mouth opened, fire gurling until Wes quenched it with the slightest brush of his hand against her knee. He shook his head, now out of frame, and mouthed, "Ignore her."

Easier said than done, but Miriam managed to clear her throat and say, "Of course I love Dad."

"Then you'll be there," her mother said.

The bitter taste of regret settled at the back of Miriam's throat. "Yes," she muttered just as Wes' hand crept onto hers. "I'll be there."

"Perfect. You too Wes," her mother added.

"Wes does not have to—"

"I'm sorry, Miriam, but I've got to go. Call your sister about dinner, she's organising."

"Alright, well, I'll speak—"

She hung up before Miriam could say goodbye. The Miriam of two years ago might've wanted to cry, but the Miriam sat in the dark uber which smelt faintly of tobacco, didn't. The Miriam holding onto Wes' hand for dear life, couldn't. This was her reality, and no amount of tears could change that.

"You don't have to come," she eventually said while slumping against Wes' shoulder.

He laughed, bringing her hand to his mouth, and brushed a kiss against her knuckles. "Of course I'm coming," he said. "I wouldn't miss it for the world. I mean, who else is going to stunt so hard your mum can't?"

Miriam let out a half-hearted laugh. "Nobody can stunt as hard as Mum," she said.

"Maybe, but I'll try."

Smiling, Miriam straightened and turned to look at Wes head on. "Have I told you how much I love you?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"Every day," Wes grinned.

Eventually, they reached their building. Both thanked the driver, who offered a toothy smile and a wave before driving off, then headed into the lobby. Wes checked for mail, retrieving a Pizza Hut menu and cleaning flyer, while Miriam called the lift. It staggered to their floor. Wes already had his keys in hand and stuck them into the lock, twisting forcefully and stepping to one side to welcome Miriam in once the door gave way. She giggled, rolling her eyes at his ridiculousness, and kicked off her trainers before stalking towards her bedroom.

"McDonalds?" Wes shouted after her.

"Twenty nuggets please," she shouted back, closing the door quickly and stripping out of her dress. She threw it in the general direction of her hamper, frowning when it missed by a few inches and forced her to trudge towards it and drop it directly onto her ever-growing pile of laundry. She would've been happy to leave it for tomorrow if she trusted that, come tomorrow, she'd actually do a load. But since nothing in this life was certain, Miriam separated out her darks and stuck her head into the hallway to ask if Wes had any.

"Always," he laughed, stepping out of his room in an old pair of basketball shorts and the hoodie Miriam stole for yoga. "Should I leave it by the washing machine?" he said.

"Yeah, thanks."

Miriam returned to the confines of her room and wriggled into the first pair of leggings she could find before throwing on her ratty pyjama top from the night before. Sniffing at the collar, she picked up the unmistakable scent of sweat and swapped the top for an old t-shirt which hung out of her wardrobe.

By the time she reached the washing machine, Wes had loaded his clothes, filled the necessary compartments with soap powder and conditioner, and pre-set the machine to a 40-degree wash. She lumped her belongings with his, closed the door and pressed play before heading towards the living room where she found Wes stretched across the sofa. He opened his arms almost immediately and she curled against him, snuggling in while he held her close.

When the McDonalds arrived, they were forced to disentangle. But even when they settled back down, Miriam with her nuggets, Wes a Big Tasty, he picked up her feet and laid them in his lap, leaving his burger on the armrest before he started the next episode of Abbot Elementary. And it was in this moment, peaceful and still, that she noted their singleness. Only, it was a comfort. For if they weren't both single, they would have to give this up.

~~~

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