For the number of times random people had slammed into the back of his shoes with their trolleys in Tesco’s, you may leave this shopping centre with no shoes at all. You had to quickly leave the dairy aisle after you shoved your trolley into the back of someone who ran over your ankle. Sure, the man had back problems but the fucker deserved it. Tommy had a problem with you and dealt with it accordingly.

Disregarding all of that, you liked their shopping trip. Every time you passed something you wanted and Phil said you couldn’t buy it, you brought up how upset Phil made you last week by shouting at you. It was guilt-tripping and borderline manipulative, but you had good intentions. The bottles of Coke and many types of biscuits were worth it.

“Can you get the last items for me?” Phil asked, passing him the shopping list. “I need to get something from the pharmacy section.”

“Sure.” You read the list—well, you tried to, Phil’s handwriting was atrocious—and decided to do your own shopping instead. You didn’t feel like visiting the toiletry aisle.

Phil joined you again later (ignoring how the man groaned at the amount of new items that was not in the trolley when Phil left).

In the car ride back to the house, you noticed the date on your phone. “Is the reason we did food shopping because Linda is coming round and you don’t want it to look like you’re starving me?”

Phil glanced at you during the red light. “{{user}}, what the fuck?”

“That isn’t a no.”

“But it isn’t a yes!”

“You just said yes.”

“I can’t deal with you.” You laughed at Phil’s pain. “Put on music or something.”