Fuck no. I'm enough of a paranoid wreck as it is, but if she cheated on me I'd never be able to trust anything she said ever again. Honestly I'd expect her to do the same.
How about we just go to a north London Weatherspoon's, get wankered on cheap, shitty cocktail pitchers and Maker's Mark and then have a good cry in the park? That's pretty much how I usually spend my Thursday night anyway.
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