I was cutting it fine. My morning swim had got delayed when I ran into Mrs Waite in the changing rooms. I was still trying to secure my knotty hair into a bun when I crashed through the office doors, a handbag on one shoulder, a laptop case on the other, a canvas bag that said fuck the rules hanging off the crook of my arm, and an insulated cup holding my first coffee of the day. I couldn’t have looked more chaotic symbolic.

‘Busy morning?’ Elle was breezing through reception after collecting what looked like thirty case files on her way through to the office. She looked relatively put together even though I had left her locked in an embrace with Ben that looked like it would manoeuvre into sexy time on the living room floor.

‘Not as busy as you,’ I smiled as I followed her down the corridor. ‘Listen, sexy time is great. I’m all for it. God knows it took you long enough, and I was gearing up to dust the cobwebs from your vag, but if I walk in on you straddling Ben on the living room floor, I’m not going to be responsible for my—’

Elle came to an almighty stop, causing me to slam my body into hers. She fell forwards and dropped her case files in a scattered heap across the floor.

‘Fuck! What the bloody shitting hell was that?’

‘Oh my God, Abi. I…I’m…Abi…’ Elle’s face matched the panicked stuttering I was trying hard to make sense of.

‘Elle, it’s good to see you. How are you?’

That voice. The voice I had been longing to hear. The voice that was somehow completely different but totally the same.

Elle’s eyes watered. She had a look of despair that probably mimicked my own. I was about to crash, explode, or drop to the floor and collapse in a heap. My legs felt heavy and my heart raced a thousand beats. Everyone was looking at me, waiting for my next move.

Jamie was there in front of me. Standing tall and fucking perfect.

I had imagined the moment I’d see him again for two years, rehearsed what I would say to him, agonised over the words, wondered if I’d hurt him as much as he’d hurt me. I had fantasised about falling into his arms after apologies and promises, but not once had I imagined this scenario.

‘Abi. Elle. You’ve both made quite an entrance.’ Colin, our manager, was wiping his head with a handkerchief, a sure fire way of knowing he was flustered with all the swearing. ‘I’m just introducing Jamie to the team. You already know him.’ He sympathetically mouthed the word sorry. ‘He’ll be taking over from me in a couple of weeks. He’s going to be your new team manager.’

Elle took a deep breath and pulled her bottom lip under her teeth. I watched the pink of her lip fade to a stark white the more she gripped it before stroking her hand down my shaky arm, linking it to steady me.

‘Hey, it’s nice to see you, Abi. Great actually. It’s all a bit unexpected but…’ Jamie consciously squirmed and rubbed all his nervous spots before holding out his hand. ‘I didn’t know you were in this team until this morning.’ I stared at his hand extended in front of me. The same hand I had held instinctively. The same hand that held mine in my sleep, stroked my hair, unclasped my bra, held my breasts. The same hand I had watched disappear into my underwear and had made me come countless times.

I couldn’t touch him. How could I touch him? How could I speak? What the hell was I going to do?

‘Take a seat,’ Colin said as he ushered us to the end of the room. I waited for the air to return to me as he gently sat me down. ‘I only officially found out on Friday that it would be Jamie taking over, but you’d already left for the day. I didn’t have a name before then. I’m so sorry I couldn’t warn you,’ he whispered. I had to bite my thumb to stop myself from crying. I wasn’t going to cry. Not in front of Jamie. But I knew the ladies’ toilets would need a do not disturb sign on them as soon as this meeting was through.

Colin moved away from my desk and addressed the room. ‘Now I’m as surprised as all of you that things have happened as quickly as they have. Jamie has been working as a senior social worker in London, but before that, he worked in Nottingham for a number of years. He trained here, so he’s very experienced and knows the area well. It’s his first management post, but I’m confident he’ll soon pick it all up. We’re going to have an intensive handover period, so you aren’t getting rid of me just yet.’ A ripple of laughter caught the room. It didn’t find its way to us, but I did get another hand squeeze.

Manager? Shit! Not only was he back, but he was my manager too. A colleague I could deal with. A colleague I could ignore and plan my diary around so that we hardly saw each other, but a manager? Didn’t anyone prepare him by saying, ‘Now, Abi Sinclair is part of the team and she’s a law unto herself. She’s going to need lots of direction; do you want to reconsider taking the job?’ No. No one said that.

‘Jamie will be around all day, so any questions, concerns, worries, please talk to him. He won’t bite. No question is too stupid. Get to know him.’

I already knew him. Too bloody well. He did bite. The teeth marks and bruises he’d left on my thighs had faded, but the feeling of his mouth on my skin was still with me. Fuck, I knew everything. I knew the meticulously hidden and the wide open, but most of all, I knew I was still in love with him and would never love anyone with the same passion again.

‘Do you want to tell me what’s going on? You look like you’ve seen a ghost,’ Kate said as she sat down next to me. ‘He’s your Jamie, isn’t he? I can tell from your reaction.’

‘He’s mine,’ I replied, trance-like.

My mind was racing. I couldn’t focus on anything but his fingers curled up to the side of him, shaking slightly, trembling. I hadn’t heard from him for close to two years. I spent months looking for him in crowds, searching for him at gatherings, concerts, and training events. Shops, restaurants and pubs would be faithfully scanned. My hopefulness was full and alert—until it wasn’t anymore.

When he left, it was like he had secured a blindfold over my eyes. Nothing was the same. Lights were dim, noises were muffled, and had to feel my way around until I eventually got used to the darkness. It became part of me. I didn’t accept it, but life carried on. Only one thing kept me going: The hope that he would reach out to me again one day. The daily ritual of opening the door after a long day with the hope that a letter would be waiting on the doormat had kept my heart alive, but also slowly broke it.