“You know I’m allergic to peanut butter, don’t you, love?” Simon asks, leaning against the door frame of the kitchen.

You glance over at him. “What?” you hiss, staring at him, dumbfounded. “I’ve been telling you for weeks about these peanut butter blossoms my mum used to make and you said you wanted to try them!” you whine.

He stares at you blankly. “I didn’t know they had peanut butter in them.” He says, a bit gruffly.