‘I don’t want this to be any more difficult for you than it already is,’ Dan said when I arrived at his flat over the deli. He was standing in his little kitchen crammed with pots and pans and clippings of recipes littered the table. A surfboard was propped against a fridge covered with a million photos and magnets – the story of his life scattered over aluminium. Dan had been, and always would be, in Australia in his head. It was part of who he was and I’d been selfish to ever think that life here with me and the deli would be enough for him. My heart lurched, seeing the photos of us together, sipping cocktails in Santorini, a selfie in Venice on the Bridge of Sighs, eating spaghetti in Rome. The narrative of our lives, of our love, for everyone to see – he was proud of me, proud of us and I was lucky to have him. And now the ultimate confirmation of our love, the story of the proposal, was waiting for its ending.

Dan made coffee and we sat facing each other at the kitchen table, both unwilling to say anything, and change everything.

‘So,’ he said, eventually, ‘I’m not always good on picking up cues, but I guess the answer’s no?’

I looked at him with a pained expression. It was agony to even think it, but we both knew my answer.

‘I can’t say it.’

‘It’s okay, you don’t have to. It was a big ask… and looking in your eyes I can see it’s a no.’ I saw his hurt as he looked at me, moving the hair from my face, stroking my cheek. ‘But for what it’s worth, I think you’re making a mistake. You already said goodbye to me once before to come back here when you left me in Santorini and our lives were put on hold – you can’t do this again. To you or me.’

‘I don’t expect you to put your life on hold, Dan,’ I said, frustrated that he thought it was merely my choice for things to be this way. Couldn’t he see I had no choice?

‘I’m sorry, it just feels like I always get the raw end of the deal. We are good together, you and me, and our summer in Santorini was the best time of my life, but Emma was pregnant and you had to leave to be with her… I understood and, as painful as it was, I let you go. I’ve always gone along with your plans, whatever fits in with your life. I’ve always wanted to go home to Oz, but I stayed here with you. Stupidly, I thought it might be time for you to come with me. When is it my turn, Faye?’

I was shocked at this outburst. ‘I didn’t realise you felt like that.’

He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, most of the time it’s okay, I want to be with you and I don’t mind that we’re here because it makes you happy. But the one time… the one time I need you there for me, you won’t be.’

‘I’ve always been there for you. Always will be here for you, love you, but my family has to come first… If you had a child you’d understand how hard this is.’ I felt hurt at his accusation, and that hurt was fizzing into anger. ‘You’re the one who wanted to be free, Dan. You’re the one who left Australia because you couldn’t bear the memories. I never forced you to come here, you could have stayed in Santorini.’

‘Without you?’

‘Yes, without me. You’re going away to live somewhere without me now.’

‘But that’s because I have to… and because you won’t leave your daughter, who’s twenty-five!’ He almost shouted this; I’d never seen him quite so angry.

‘I’m staying here because Emma is relying on me… A year or two down the line, things might be different.’ In all honesty I didn’t expect anything to be different – Rosie would still only be five and I doubted I’d be any more likely to walk away then – but I just didn’t want this to be the end. Even though it was looking that way.

‘Well, I can’t wait for a year or two… or three… because my brother is dying now,’ he hissed. ‘And I’m sorry if it isn’t convenient, if his illness doesn’t fit in with your life plan, Faye.’

I must have looked shocked – this wasn’t like him. Tears sprang to my eyes and I could see immediately that he felt bad.

‘I’m sorry… I just thought that you might be ready to put us first. I know it’s not an ideal time for you, but Emma’s perfectly capable.’ He ran his hands through his hair; he seemed exasperated and looked so tired.

‘It sounds easy, doesn’t it? But it isn’t… You’ve never been a parent, you’ve no idea what it’s like,’ I snapped, tired and exasperated by all this.

‘I know what it’s like to have to go to my dying brother alone, without any support from my partner.’

His words were razor-sharp, but I knew this was his sadness talking, and I didn’t want our final memories to be like this, so I touched his arm, ‘Let’s not fall out, we don’t have long left together.’

I understood his hurt and resentment, but it wasn’t just about me and Dan, it was about the way our lives entwined with other lives, like branches in an oak tree. And how could we extricate ourselves from all of that?

He turned on his phone. ‘I have to book my ticket,’ he said. ‘I guess it’s just one. Single?’ He looked at me, but I didn’t answer and waited for him to go back to his phone and he clicked away, booking a return to his old life, and all that sunshine and pain.

‘I can get one first thing in the morning. I’d need to leave here about six, but it’s cheaper than a later one – quicker too,’ he said, scrolling through his phone.

‘Okay, go for it,’ I said softly, knowing it would all be settled within minutes, that this would be goodbye.

I waited for him to say something, but he didn’t, he just sat scrolling on his phone, and I felt like he’d already gone.

When he finished, he looked up at me and I could see my own despair reflected back at me. But if this was the end of our story I had to remember him in a good way, and see him smile one last time.

‘I don’t want our final few hours together to be sad – we’re a happy couple, let’s be happy until we can’t do it anymore?’ I asked. ‘Please?’

‘I’m sorry, I kinda thought you might just change your mind.’

I shook my head.

‘Faye, at some point, you’re going to have to let Emma go and live her life so you can live yours.’

I didn’t respond, but it struck a chord and, rationally, I knew he was probably right. But I kept thinking of Rosie’s little face when we baked together, her excitement at simply watching TV with me, going to the park, playing with her teddies – and my heart just couldn’t say yes, because it would also mean saying goodbye to my granddaughter.

‘You’re right, let’s not be sad,’ he said suddenly, standing up from the table and walking into the bedroom. I could see him through the open door as he picked up his rucksack and threw it off the bed into the doorway. ‘Let’s not talk about it anymore,’ he said, ‘let’s just have fun until the plane leaves.’ He walked back into the kitchen towards me, his arms outstretched and I stumbled into them, trying not to hear his words replay over in my mind ‘until the plane leaves’. Tomorrow, he would be gone and I knew my heart would break into a million pieces, but right now I needed to make one last memory to hold onto.

‘Sounds good to me,’ I mumbled between our kisses, now more intense than ever.

He carried me into the bedroom, like a groom carrying his bride over the threshold, and I was aware of his physical strength as he held me. It made me wonder what being married to Dan would be like, to have that first night, the rest of our lives together stretching before us.

He was so sure of what he wanted, and I lay back as he kissed my breasts, moving down my body slowly, sensuously. This would be the last time between us, and knowing this somehow made the pleasure more intense even as I fought back the tears. I wanted him inside me as he moved back up my body and I let him in. We were soon damp with sweat as we rolled around on the sheets, my legs wrapped around his back, holding him inside as he thrust into me. I never wanted this to end and as we gazed into each other’s eyes, fireworks were exploding around us and I gasped, clutching him even closer. I would take this moment and hold it to my heart forever.

Afterwards, the air was charged with pain as we lay side by side. There was now a physical separation, neither of us touching the other for fear of hurting or being hurt. As if we weren’t already broken.

‘What shall we do then?’ his voice sliced into the silence, the lovely Aussie sunshine now dimmed. ‘I mean, should we stay in touch, will you come out to see me?’

I shook my head, tears filling my eyes. Oh God, how I wished that might be possible, that I could hear his voice every now and then, go out and visit him, but it was no good.

‘I don’t think that would work. We’d see each other a couple of times a year at best, and that’s not a relationship.’ I smiled, and touched his cheek and he took my hand, holding it to him as he closed his eyes.

As dusk shrouded the bedroom, I watched him sleeping, taking in every centimetre of his face. I needed a close-up to keep in my head for the rest of my life. It would be all I had left of him, of this time, of us, and I hoped remembering what we’d had would be enough. What Dan and I had was special – some people live a lifetime and never have that connection and if this was all I’d ever have, then I was lucky. I’d let him go to live his life, while I stayed here with mine. And it occurred to me as I lay in the dimming light, fresh tears cool on my cheeks, that I’d probably never love like this again.