So Ma had completely read it wrong on the invitation card the restaurant gave me Aunt. There was no dress code. Quite the frickin’ opposite, actually. So here we are, me, me Mam, and me Da - the latter and I stood in proper suits, blazers and all, and Mam in a pretty flowery dress.

At least she’s happy.

She’s laughing to herself while Da rubs her arm, making sure she doesn’t feel guilty or nothin’. And I don’t want her to feel guilty, but I feel like a feckin’ eejit stood here in a suit.

Did I mention where we were? A burger place.

Best in the Ballylaggin ten mile radius apparently, which for my stomach, great although I’d totally train double sets tomorrow - but for my head? I felt stupid, out of place.

Until after we’re sat down, looking through the menu, sat on the patio on the boarded up floor and glass tables - on a harbour, did I mention we’re on a feckin’ harbour? In Ireland? During May? But then Mam looks up and grins. Whole face lights up like Christmas lights.

Da follows her gaze and so do I eventually. You and your family are there. And you’re stood in this.. dress. A pretty little thing. Ends just above your knees, that are scarred from a good childhood. It’s got like waves? Or frills and these little green flowers. You even put a little more makeup on. I could see it on your lips and skin.

You’ve not seen me yet, and are looking over the Irish Sea, that for once isn’t baltic and aggressive. So our parents get up. Greet, and hug like it’s a fucking reunion. I walk over to where you’re leaning against the wooden barrier. “Hey.” You say.

“Hey yourself.” I nod, leaning beside you. “Your parents get the dress code wrong too?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I just decided to dress up. It’s been a while.” It was bold - any other girl would’ve blushed, tried to put on a jacket, cause you’re so out of place. Not you. Never you.

Feckin’ hell I think I just fell in love a bit.

“Well. You look lovely.” I nod, my eyes literally stuck on your face.