Let's be fair, it was apparently a short-notice trip so is not listed on the kitchen calendar (which I did check when I got home). And I was over in Frankfurt when she told me and I might have been drinking beforehand. Or it was in one of those long emails that I'm planning to read in full at some point in the future.
Actually, I knew she was in Paris before she texted me, so I could authentically claim to have remembered. Admittedly because at about 8.30pm, I checked Find My Friends on my phone, and there she was, down by the Seine and not at the gym up the hill. It says something about modern relationships that we both periodically have to find each other via technology.
She had shoved a case of generic craft beer in the fridge, so I assume that was my cue to leave the rest alone. My head was a bit spangoed by the previous evening's carousings anyway.
Fortunately, she's not interested in my cycling ramblings*, so this is a safe space. She will never know of the depth of my perfidy.
*One of my work colleagues once admitted to me that her boyfriend was into 'this thing called audax' like it was something dark and shameful.
