When did I swallow the ball of wool that was now lodged in my windpipe and tangled around my vocal cords? I was fairly certain today would be the day my life was going to end. I was about to kick the proverbial bucket before dropping down on my knees before him.

His name was already on the door, replacing Colin’s before he’d even left the building.

Jamie Dawson: Team Manager.

That stupid plastic label made it all seem real, or maybe it was the thought of spending the next couple of hours locked in an office together whilst we discussed and dissected my cases in supervision.

Three knocks.

‘Come in.’

I pushed the door open slowly and took him in. He looked like a perfect imitation of a Hugo Boss ad campaign. His three-piece suit beautifully clung to the contours of his body. I smiled briefly as I thought of the perfection underneath, but I also felt insanely jealous that his body was created and honed by eating bacon and egg sandwiches for breakfast, meatball subs for lunch and takeout for dinner washed down in between with sugary tea and eight packets of crisps.

The image of him was perfect, but all wrong. I had seen him at work before in a Star Wars t-shirt, jeans and battered trainers. I knew him as the man who adored people and took great pleasure in helping them, not the behind the desk manager sitting before me in the suit.

‘Sit down,’ he said softly, watching me as I put the case files on the floor and clung on to my notepad with every part of me. ‘How have you been?’ I ignored him. ‘I know this is—’

‘Do you have my case list or do I need to go through it all with you? There must be so much you need to know. I can’t imagine it. I’m glad I’m not in your position. Bloody hell, what a nightmare.’ Verbal rubbish spilled everywhere. I shook my head and dug my fingernails into the cardboard, finally resting my eyes on his socks. Black with red polka dots like a clown’s nose.

‘I have your case list. Colin gave it to me the other day.’

‘That makes it easier then. Good old Colin. He’s a gem. I’m going to miss him. I’m not saying that to be mean to you; I really do mean it. Even if it wasn’t you taking over, I’d still miss him.’ I couldn’t stop my mouth from moving.

Jamie leant forward in his chair, resting his elbow on the desk as he moved his hand across his forehead. ‘Let’s start, shall we? Tell me which case is at the forefront of your mind. I find it easier and more efficient if we start with the more challenging cases first.’

I huffed at his formality, and on that brittle noise, he shot his eyes towards me and hurt flashed across his face. His eyes drew in, causing the crinkles to deepen and stretch. I had kissed those crinkles. I had worshipped them, adored them. Now I was looking at them from afar—so far away from him now that it hurt me low in my hips and across my stomach, a deep ache that I was sure would never lift.

‘Do you have another idea of how we can do this? You must have had a few supervisors now. What’s your preference? How can I structure it to be as much use to you as possible?’

‘Are we ever going to talk about what happened? I asked, blocking his last word, talking over him. I couldn’t stand the formality. He dropped his eyes to the table again and shook his head so lightly I almost missed it.

‘We don’t need to talk about it,’ he uttered under his breath.

I pushed back my shoulders and found the fire, the fire that had been burning for years, all the hurt and the let-down piling on top of it like a log on a bonfire, raising the flames into the sky. ‘No!’ I shouted. ‘Give me my moment. Let me say what I need to say.’

‘Abi, I can’t.’

‘Tough. You’re going to hear it,’ I said firmly. ‘I haven’t had a relationship since you.’ I watched his eyebrows shoot up as a small smile appeared like I’d just told him I was prepared to remain celibate for the rest of my life, that no other man would touch me like he did. If only he knew I gave myself to anyone that would have me in any way they wanted apart from any real emotional connection. ‘I'm cautious and I’m off limits. I can offer my body but nothing more.’ His smile dropped, as did his head, his eyes slowly closing shut. ‘You still have the part of me that was carefree and willing to love. Do you think I could have it back?’

‘No, never.’ He spat the words right out, tightening both of his hands into fists. I watched the skin on his knuckles turn white as I gasped for breath. I was clutching my chest trying to hold myself together. He hadn’t offered any indication that he felt anything good, anything worth holding on to until now.

‘I thought you were going to kill me. Literally. I could see myself going to a doctor and saying I was being slowly split in two and needed something to stop it. It wasn’t when you left, because then there was still hope. It was in the months you didn’t reply to my letters.’

‘And why didn’t I reply? Tell me. You fucking ended it, Abi!’ he shouted. ‘You told me you’d found someone else. Three months! Three months was all it took for you to move on while I was caring for my dying mother!’

‘It wasn’t true! I was desperate. I didn’t know what else to do. I wrote to you after that letter. I explained everything. Why didn’t you reply?’ I cried.

‘I couldn’t.’

There was a knock at the door that caused him to sit up straight and adjust his tie. Matthew from reception was carrying a pile of letters.

‘Colin likes the mail as soon as it arrives, so I thought we’d carry on the tradition. Is that OK?’

‘Yes, thanks, do that,’ he replied with a forced smile as Matthew turned to walk out.

‘Sorry, Abi, didn’t see you there. Rough weekend? You look peaky this morning. Too much drinking, I know,’ he said, tapping his nose like it was some kind of secret between us that from the first weekend Jamie had left, I spent every Saturday night drinking myself into oblivion so that I had the padding and backup to sleep with anyone with a pulse.

‘Shut the door on your way out, Matthew,’ he said with a tone so dark I almost searched for a light switch. He sighed deeply. ‘That letter ripped me to pieces.’

There was so much I wanted to say, but the only words I could gather in my head were monumental and fuck-up. ‘I think we need a bit more time to adjust to what our relationship is going to be now,’ I said, attempting to gather my professionalism together.

‘What is it going to be?’

‘How can I answer that?’ I yelled, totally frustrated. ‘I never thought we’d be in this situation.’

‘Neither did I.’

‘You must have wondered. Surely you knew I’d still be in Nottingham. I would never leave my mum—’

‘I know. I fucking know,’ he said, his jaw ticking and his hand stroking his face.

‘Why didn’t you contact me?’ I asked, setting the question free that had plagued me for the last two years. ‘Or tell me you’d come back and we could start again?’

‘Abi,’ he warned.

‘No. I deserve to know.’

‘I can’t go there.’ I could see the strain across his skin as he set his teeth together.

‘If you want me to be professional, civil even, you need to tell me. Fuck, I can’t even begin to think about getting involved with someone else. I have this loop in my head going round and round. It was me. I wasn’t good enough.’

‘You know it wasn’t you,’ he said. ‘My mum was dying. I had to be there for her. The job was just an opportunity that allowed me to stay and help her. She needed me. Fuck, Abi, I lost her. I needed you so badly. I wanted to tell you she’d gone. I nearly did, but I just couldn’t. There’s a good reason why—’

‘Tell me,’ I demanded.

‘I can’t! Fucking hell, I just can’t.’ He stepped towards me and I pulled the notebook to my chest in protection. That made him stop. When we were together, I had never pushed him away. He had never felt the sting. I had welcomed him, cared for him, placed my loving arms around him and stroked my adoring fingers across his skin. He was in complete shock at the gesture he was so unfamiliar with.

He dropped his head. ‘Just promise me you'll remember all the good things, the things that were right, not the bad that destroyed us.’

‘We destroyed each other,’ I replied with all of my hurt and every sorrow that had ever swept through me like the breeze before a storm took hold. ‘How can I look back fondly when I have to see you every day? You’re a constant reminder of everything I did wrong.’

His head bowed down as both hands found themselves in his pockets. His eyes that were once so expressive were now tired and full of sorrow. Something had changed within him. He was lost. What had changed him? Was it me? Was that how I’d left my mark, or was it something else?

I quickly collected my files and left the room.