"So, I try my best to stay out of Ric's business and not get involved if at all possible," Beth begins. "But this - whatever is going on, or not going on, with you two - is an absolute clusterfuck!" Exasperation twists her beautiful face.

I instantly jump on the defensive. "What am I meant to do, Beth?" My voice sounds loud in my own head, and I hope I'm not shouting. Luckily, DiMaggios is always a bit noisy anyway. "I really like the guy. I let myself get my hopes up that things might actually have potential between us . . . And then he just called it before we could even see what might happen."

Beth's hazel eyes soften. "I get it. Truly, I do. But you've got to understand where he's coming from, too. He likes you too. A lot. To be perfectly honest, it's been a really long time since I've seen him like this over a girl. But you're just out of a relationship and . . ."

"I'm totally over Declan," I blurt out over her. "But it feels like I could tell Ric that until I'm blue in the face, and he still won't believe me." Our drinks are placed in front of us, and I take a big gulp of mine. I wish it was wine.

"He has his reasons," Beth says. I'm not sure if she's deliberately trying to be mysterious, but it's coming across that way, and it's immensely irritating.

"Care to enlighten me as to what they are?" Frustration has made me blunt. And more than a little snarky.

"He'd probably kill me for telling you," she mutters, looking like she's having an internal battle with herself. "Fuck it, I told myself I was going to try to fix this, and I'm gonna do it," she adds determinedly. "So a few years ago, Ric fell head over heels for this girl. Leah." She makes an apologetic face. "Sorry!"

"We all have a history," I shrug, although it bothers me more than I want to admit. It's not like I believed that Ric was some sort of gauche virgin, but I still prefer not to have to imagine him with other girls. Especially when feelings are apparently involved.

"True." Beth continues. "Leah had been in a previous relationship for a couple of years, and it had been over for a while before she met Ric. She seemed to be over it, seemed to be as into Ric as he was into her . . . And even I thought that, viewing it from the outside."

The penny is starting to drop. "Did the ex come back for her?" I ask.

She nods. "You got it. She was pretty transparent with Ric about the whole thing, up to a point anyway. Said he was contacting her, wanting to meet up, but she wasn't interested. Ric had no reason not to believe her. Until . . . She suddenly decided that the ex deserved another try."

Ooft.

"That's horrible."

"Ric was blindsided," Beth continues. "He and Leah had only been together about six months or so, but he'd absolutely trusted that she was over her ex. To be fair to Leah, I think she had convinced herself she was too. But the guy was like her kryptonite. She couldn't resist giving him another chance - she'd been meeting up with him secretly for a couple of weeks and juggling them both while she made her decision, and when she finally made a decision and came clean, Ric was devastated.

"Anyway, he hasn't really been himself since. He just basically retreated into his shell to lick his wounds, and he hasn't really emerged again . . . Until now." She looks at me pointedly.

"Oh," I say softly.

Now Beth has filled in some background details, Ric's behaviour is starting to make more sense. The fact he rejected my advances that first time, despite the spark between us. The various comments he's made about Declan, about rebounds. And the way he shut us down before we even had a chance.

"Yeah." Beth nods. "So while he likes you, he's clearly trying to run from his feelings because he doesn't want this to happen to him again. With Leah, he didn't even know the ex thing was going to be an issue . . . But you actually were talking about your ex, crying about your ex, from the start. With his history, that's just been a massive red flag for him."

Our starters arrive, and we fall silent for a minute or two as we eat. Gooey deep-fried cheese deserves full attention. Hell, it deserves its own paragraph!

"So . . . Level with me. Is there any hope for me here?" I ask Beth eventually, once I'm halfway through my starter.

"Honestly?" She asks, and it's my turn to nod, although I'm scared of the answer. "I think he's already regretting the decision he made. And I believe he's really fucking conflicted right now. The way he was acting with you yesterday confirmed that for me."

"Last night was a shit-show," I mumble.

"It was," she confirms. "Oh, and in case you're worried, nothing happened with that girl. She was someone he knew from uni, who just happened to come up to him at the bar to say hi. He told me this when I ripped him a new one for his behaviour."

My relief is probably emanating off me like vapour. "You told him off?" I ask in disbelief

"Someone had to," she laughs. "He was being a wee prick."

It's official. I love Beth.

"Thank you," I say gratefully.

"You're welcome," she replies, spearing up another bite of goats cheese. "In all seriousness though, just give him time. He's coming around, I know it. And I can tell he's crazy about you; you're the first girl he's been interested in for years."

"But . . ." I can't help it; I think about the random girls he'd brought back to the flatshare in my first few weeks there. Sitting around in their flimsy little robes, being all beautiful and annoying. "What about all the girls in the flat?"

Beth frowns. "What are you on about, Abby?"

"I kept coming home to scantily dressed women when I first moved in," I inform her, pushing my empty plate to one side. Beth starts to laugh again, and I can't help but give her a dirty look. "What's so funny?"

She picks up her phone and starts flicking through it. Which isn't really answering my question. Then she shows me a photo. The picture is of a beautiful framed illustration, featuring Beth inexplicably dressed as Wonder Woman. Which is all well and good, but still doesn't explain anything, and basically simply showcases that Beth may have missed her calling as a superhero.

"What am I missing here?"

Beth smiles. "Ric drew me this for my birthday." Wow, he's an amazing artist. "He knows I'm a big fan of Wonder Woman. Some of my friends saw it, got jealous, and wanted their own versions." She makes a face. "I was a bit put out. I hate people copying me. But they were offering good money, and I didn't want to stand in the way of Ric making some extra cash; so I asked him if he would do their pics too, dressed as their favourite superheroes. Of course, they all wanted to pose for the actual pictures . . . Most of them have a crush on Ric, so they fully embraced the opportunity to get half-naked in front of him."

"And those were the girls I saw in the flat?" I ask disbelievingly.

She nods. "Yep. The funny thing is, I was there too. Ric insisted on it - it was his only condition when he agreed to help out. I think he's secretly a bit terrified of most of my mates." Another laugh. "He'd never admit that, of course."

The waiter removes our starters, and a moment later, a massive portion of spaghetti bolognese appears in front of me. We do the usual Parmesan Dance - you know it, right? It's where I awkwardly watch cheese being delicately spooned on top of my meal, longing to just grab the whole bowl and dump it on in its entirety, but bound by social etiquette to say "that's enough, thanks", when in actuality I have nowhere near enough added for my liking.

"So these girls were just in the flat to pose for drawings? And you were there too?" I clarify.

"Yep. Like his bouncer." Beth grins suddenly, her eyes lighting up as she clearly has a revelation. "And for some reason, Ric always encouraged them to pop out to the kitchen for a break around around 5 pm . . . Which I'm assuming is the time you usually get home from work?" I nod. "Hmmm. I think someone was deliberately trying to make you think he was a player."

"But . . . Why?" I can't quite get my head round this.

She shrugs. "Either to push you away or make you jealous would be my best guesses. Could be either. Could be both. Could be something completely different. I know Ric very well, but even I don't understand how his mind works sometimes."

"That makes two of us," I sigh. This meal is definitely providing me, literally and metaphorically, plenty of food for thought.

"Anyway, the whole point of me inviting you out for lunch was to explain Ric's behaviour to you in the hope you'll not write him off just yet," Beth sums up. She hesitates before going on. "Do you think you can give him that chance?"

Can I? I want to, don't get me wrong. But . . .

I stall as I try to twirl pasta ineffectually around my fork before giving up and hacking it into pieces with my knife. Why do I always think eating spaghetti in public is a good idea? "I'd like to," I say eventually. "But he really hurt me. Especially last night."

Beth reaches across the table and pats my hand sympathetically. "I get it," she says. "Look, why don't you just see how things go at the wedding tomorrow? Maybe you'll be pleasantly surprised."

"I doubt it," I sigh. "But we'll see."

Our conversation drifts onto non-Ric related subjects then. But, for the rest of the day, my apprehension about tomorrow grows by the minute. What are things going to be like between us at the wedding?

And is Beth right that I just need to give him time?